Bittersweet Catastrophe
by flipstahhz
Summary: Thirty. It's no longer an age of youth, finding one's self or discovering your passion. Once you reach that pinnacle of the deathly three and 'ohhhh', you're basically screwed. While being the oldest out of your friends is already bad enough; knowing that you're destined for singledom is surely a slap in the face. [CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE]
1. chapter one: the quartet of (im)maturity

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter one

 **t** he **q** uartet **o** f (im) **m** aturity

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It's a Friday night and I'm so _close_ to bailing.

As I kick off my heels and rush barefooted down the hallway, I'm half-tempted to individually dial up the other girls to cancel. However, I know that me pursuing and pleading with my friends against going out tonight will become nothing but fruitless. Even if I _try_ to compromise with them, I know that they won't take any of my excuses - especially when everybody has made an effort to pencil in this date into their schedules over a week ago.

'A blood promise' was what Mimi described it as when she watchfully, and unblinkingly, ensured that I had carved it into my diary. She takes no prisoners whenever it relates to our lady's code. If I back out now, Mimi will have my head.

I strip down and disappear under the streaming shower. After record-timing I'm out and drying myself in my bedroom. I shrug on the first articles of clothing I can find. Tight black jeans, a loose cotton shirt and a long woollen grey cardigan. This will be fine. You can never go wrong when sticking to the basics.

 _Not like I really care right now..._

My phone rings and I immediately wince when I recognise the melody of the latest Beyonce song. The ringtone had been self-customised, a couple of days ago, by the caller herself.

I ignore the phone buzzing as I continue to dry my hair. At times like these, I'm happy to have short hair. When my hair is what I personally commend as _dry enough_ , I snatch my purse from my bed and click on a golden watch around my wrist. It's when I'm slipping into my pair of beige calf-length boots, I hear honking.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" I hiss, even though I'm know that my impatient friend cannot hear me.

Locking up my apartment, I scamper down the stairwell.

That's the thing when you're older; time is precious. Tardiness apparently is not tolerated because we're crankier and less tolerant (that's what my mother used to say whenever she lectured me the art of punctuality, much to my father's distaste). If it had been us ladies meeting five years ago, I know that we would be aiming to meet up a few hours shy off midnight – and the funny thing is that we would have not cared the slightest.

Today's time and age is a different story. Although I've worked over-time and still had arrived home rightfully well before the agreed time, Mimi is still irritated that I'm not waiting outside, despite her arriving five minutes _earlier._ And yes, you've heard it right - _earlier._

Yet, Mimi is _still_ gleefully honking the vehicle in a psychopathic manner like I hadn't heard her the first time. Mimi may have upped her game on the punctuality spectrum, but she's still my crazy best friend who happens to be currently causing a riot outside. (I'm making her take all the blame when my neighbours file in a complaint tomorrow).

Once I'm out of the apartment complex, I freeze when I see a crimson convertible parked in the drop off area. I had expected a silver sedan, not Mimi's partner's vehicle.

"Like my new ride?" Mimi gestures at the car she's comfortably sitting in. "I borrowed Ayaka. Thought we could sacrifice her for tonight because it's your special day."

" _Borrow_ is defined as the owner giving you permission to lend a possession," I smirk as I slide into the shotgun seat. "Something tells me that Taichi would never permit _anybody_ to touch Ayaka if he wasn't on a business trip."

"He's in London," Mimi replies. "He won't know. And, if he did, I'm sure that he wouldn't mind."

"Oh, he'll mind," I mutter as Mimi reverses the car and drives onto the road, merging with oncoming traffic. "If Taichi personifies his car as a woman, I'd be very cautious if I were you."

"I'm his woman."

"No." I disagree. "You forget that you're lady number two. Ayaka is his first love."

In response, Mimi gives a low whistle. "Nice one. Even I can't deny that. By the rate I'm going, I might have to settle for the title of being his alluring, jealous mistress."

Five minutes ago I was real close to locking myself inside for the night and hibernating, but from my minimal interaction with Mimi I've somehow managed to vanquish a working day's worth of fatigue into oblivion. Mimi's good like that. She always says the right things to make me feel better. I mean, it _has_ to be a given considering the both of us have tolerated each other for nearly two decades without biting each other's heads off.

"An alluring, jealous mistress, huh? That _does_ have a nice ring to it." I admit, laughing. "And it's only fitting when what you've got on is eye-catching enough to slay the male species."

Like her bold personality, Mimi's distinct fashion sense naturally causes people to stare at her. Tonight is no different as she's got on this strapless golden top with the bottom of it being tucked inside a black leather skirt. Her make-up is dark and smokey and her lips are painted a similar colour to Ayaka's crimson colour. Despite being off the market, much to many gentlemen's uproars, Mimi never fails to dress to impress.

As we stop at the traffic lights, I frown when I see that she's selected her favourite leopard patterned heels. I've told her off on numerous occasions that it's never safe to drive in them, but she never listens.

" _Mimi_ -"

"Stay still." She leans towards me, ordering, "Don't open your mouth."

I don't get the chance to protest because Mimi is already attacking me, applying her lipstick onto my lips. She motions me to press my lips together and then places her make-up pouch onto my lap. "Honey, you look like you have no eyelashes. Put on some mascara before the lights signal green, will you?"

"But-"

"Don't argue with me!" Mimi snaps. "We all took tonight off for you and I will not allow you to look _plain_. Put it on now, Sora!"

Rolling my eyes, I comply to her words, taking the mascara out from the pouch. I use my phone's screen as a mirror, making my eyelashes look heavier. While I'm doing this, I drone out Mimi's yapping as she continues to blabber on about how I should have put more effort into dressing up.

Mimi's complaining doesn't stop. She keeps chattering for the whole half hour and up until we're driving into a quieter neighbourhood. As we pull up besides Hikari's house, Mimi's about to beep the horn again. She stops when we see the front door being flung open.

"Aunt Sora!" "Aunt Mimi!" I hear our names being shouted out. "Can we go too?" "Can we?" "Please?"

A frazzled mother cradles a baby in her arms. She slams her right leg onto the doorframe and anchors her bottom on the opposite side of the door to barricade her other two children from running out of the house.

The mother turns her head towards her children and sternly bristles, "Risa and Hiro, I want you stay inside."

"But mother-"

" _Now."_

I exchange glances with Mimi as we watch our friend, Hikari, discipline her children.

Hikari's a wonder woman. She has three children: baby Keita, who is in her arms, the mischievous oldest son called Hiroto (who is currently attempting to crawl under Hikari's leg) and her, now crying, daughter named Risa. While Hikari is the only one in our sisterhood to have children, she also happens to be the only one with a ring on her finger. It's ironic because despite Hikari being the youngest out of us friends, she was the first one to get married and, to this day, she remains the only one wedded.

"TAKERU!" Hikari yells for her husband.

A split second later, Takeru appears by her side. I laugh harder when I see the blond-headed man, wearing a frilly pink apron, grinning widely as he waves the ladle in his hand to greeting.

"Happy Birthday, Sora!" Takeru, being the charmer he is, winks at us. "Looking beautiful, ladies."

"Thanks!" I salute, just as Mimi screams out, "And we're borrowing Hikari!"

"Mimi," I whisper to her. "You need to stop using the word 'borrowing'."

"But it's true," Mimi remarks.

Hikari places Keita into Takeru's arms then proceeds to hug both Hiroto and Risa before beckoning them again to go inside. "Take care of daddy, will you? He's hopeless without me."

"I'm the one looking after them," Takeru protests, while he tries not to stumble as Risa yanks at the end of his pants.

Hikari strings her arms into an umber coat and slips on her shoes. She leans towards Takeru and plants a kiss on his unsuspecting cheek. "Be quiet and go inside, will you? It's cold."

As Hikari walks towards the car, Takeru calls out after us. "Behave yourselves! Stay safe. Don't do anything I _would_ do."

"We'll be fine," I assure him.

Takeru smirks. "No, I know you will be. I mean Hikari."

After saying our final goodbyes to him, we drive off. Mimi silently passes her make-up pouch to Hikari. From the rear-back mirror, I can see Hikari release her chestnut coloured hair from the ponytail she had up, choosing to braid her hair to the side.

Hikari gives a weak smile. "My brother is going to kill you, Mimi. If he finds out that you're driving Ayaka-

"I know." Mimi huffs. "Sora's already given me an earful."

"I was going to say that I'd be more than happy to be an accomplice," Hikari simpers, yet still manages to look innocent.

Taichi's stories about Hikari being the quiet evil one resurfaces in my mind. I shake my head, muttering, "Takeru was right about you needing to behave yourself, Hikari."

At the hospital, Miyako's already waiting in front of the gates when we get there. Her lilac dyed hair contrasts with the navy scrubs she's attired in. I gather she hasn't changed out of her uniform because she's preoccupied with what appears to be an important phone-call.

As soon as she spots us, she literally jumps over the door and into the backseat. Miyako gives me a back hug, buckling her seatbelt besides Hikari, and continues the conversation she's having.

"I'm not going anywhere dangerous." Miyako lets out a long sigh.

Mimi raises an eyebrow at me and I bite my bottom lip from bursting out into laughter.

"No, Jyou. Don't you dare look up that statistic. I promise you that I will not be in that percentage of women who is dumb enough to get their drink spiked! I'm not _that_ stupid. Go back to work."

 _..._

"I am _not_ mad."

...

"Do I have to? You say it first then I will."

 _..._

Miyako giggles. "I love you too."

We're all chortling now.

"You hang up the phone."

…

"I don't want to hang up first."

Mimi snorts.

"No, you hang up."

Miyako keeps protesting until I hear yelping and some shuffling going on behind me. "No! Hikari! Why'd you hang up?"

"You were getting annoying!" Hikari admits exactly what I'm thinking too.

Mimi exclaims, "Oh, _young_ love!"

I couldn't agree any more with Mimi.

For years it had been obvious that Miyako's colleague, Jyou, had crushed on her. Unfortunately, our nurse friend, would always turn a blind eye to his feelings. Miyako liked being single, and went on my dates just for fun, never wanting to be in a serious relationship. She even stated that she never wanted to be with anybody in the medical field because she didn't want to be reminded of work when she wasn't at the hospital.

However, when Jyou had finally grown some balls and asked her out, Miyako couldn't upright turn him down. Because they were friends, Miyako had decided to give him a chance and ever since then she has never once thought about breaking up with him. In fact, Miyako's been head-over-heels over Jyou like a deranged, hormonal teenager. Let's just say she's lucky to have scored a doctor.

"Can you put the roof on, Mimi?" Miyako asks. "I need to get changed."

"Do you really need to change here?" Hikari questions as the roof folds out over our heads. "Just because you see naked people all the time doesn't mean- _argh!_ I know we're close and all that, but I do _not_ want to see your boobs!"

Miyako scolds her, "So don't stare at me then!"

 _Screech!_

I frown at Mimi who gives me a sheepish smile. The lights have turn red and she had been close to running the light. Because my eyes are on her, the guy inside the car on the opposite lane thinks I am gazing at him. He beeps his horn and I turn away from him.

Mimi notices him too, but instead of ignoring him she bats her eyelashes at the car of boys.

"They're young, Mimi." I warn her.

"So?" Mimi says. "It's funny. Take it as a compliment. They think you look hot, Sora...which means that you don't look like you're thirty."

"You don't need to remind me," I grimace at the thought.

Mimi sends me a cheeky look. I gulp. She's up to no good. Before I can put an end to her demonic scheming, Taichi's music is switched on. An old hip hop song thumps out of the speakers. Though, it doesn't end there. Mimi's cranking up the music to full blast that I can feel the bass causing the whole car to vibrate from the beat.

"STOP IT!" Miyako squeals.

I swivel behind me to see that Mimi's made sure to roll down the backseat windows too. The boys in the other car are getting a good look at Miyako's semi-nude figure and are hollering at us. Hikari is using her hands to block them from seeing inside the car while Miyako is cursing excessively as she hurriedly jerks down her top.

As soon as the lights turn green, Mimi steps aggressively onto the accelerator as she farewells our newly acquainted friends (who are still are dazed from seeing Miyako).

" _MIMI!_ "

Tears well up in my eyes, but I can't stop myself. I hold onto my sides, ribs aching from the laughter that is violently racking through my body.

No matter how old the four of us get; I don't think we'll ever change.

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 **(a/n)** 15.05.16

Oh hell, it's another Sorato. I needed a break from Starless Sky. I needed crack. This is what happened. And yeah, I'll edit this another time when I'm in a sane mood.


	2. chapter two: night gone wrong

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter two

 **n** ight **g** one **w** rong

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Sinking my back against the steel chair, I take a sip from my glass.

We used to be frequent guests at this bar. There are some subtle alterations in the interior, new staff members at the bar and a mass of people that, unmistakably, hail from a much younger generation than us. Deafening bass is thrashing out of the speakers of songs I predominantly am having difficulty recognising. Bright lights flash throughout the area, making it unbearable for my sensitive eyes and contributing to my upcoming migraine.

Celebrating my thirtieth at this bar is giving me an eye-opener to my shitty reality. This isn't my scene anymore. I'm the oldest and the first out of my girlfriends to reluctantly say goodbye to the twenties.

We've opted to circle around a table that's shying a metre well away from the dance floor. Nobody has hinted or made a tiny gesture to __want__ to dance - which I'm grateful for, thank goodness. The vibe is weird and nobody needs to tell us that we're out of place. We had been foolish to think that time hadn't passed and that our once favourite bar, wasn't as entertaining as it had once been.

Would you believe that I actually used to __like__ being here?

Back in the day our weekends would involve the four of us gallivanting around in our adorned best dresses, caking on makeup, deluging in dirt cheap liquor and dancing the night away until our feet would ache from the ridiculously high heels we'd wear. Let's just say that this was well before Hikari fell pregnant with her first child, before Miyako graduated from nursing school, and prior to Mimi and Taichi beginning their friends-with-benefitting.

Right now being here is anything _but_ the same.

And, frankly speaking, it's _horrible._

Of course, I'm trying not to say this out loud. My teeth is digging into the tip of my tongue from letting out a sarcastic remark that will, surely, make my friends get snappy and disappointed at me. I love them, I really do, and I appreciate that they're attempting to make me feel better about my ancient age, but their intervening is making me feel worse.

All I want to do is find my way back home and crawl under my bedsheets. At least that sounds like a better way to drown my sorrows away because I'm __way__ too old for this.

Mimi leans over to me and motions at the vodka sunrise in my hands. "Hurry up and down it, Sora."

"Why?" I finish the drink anyway.

"You're not drunk yet!" Mimi replies to me as if she isn't blatantly obvious enough.

"Not everybody here shares your opinion," I say, grouchily.

I nudge my head over to Miyako. Her shoulders are hunched as she relentlessly texts on her phone, sending multiple messages to her fretting boyfriend. Whereas you can clearly tell it's past Hikari's bedtime as she's resting her head on the table, half-asleep.

"Since when did we get so boring?!" Mimi cries out.

To Mimi's absolute dismay, we're as tamed as it gets. Our predicted, promiscuous and deranged night is an utter failure. She kicks the other two ladies under the table, causing Miyako to swear and Hikari to yelp out in surprise as she wipes the drool from the corner of her mouth.

"Drink up!" Mimi glowers at us, filling up our glasses to the brim with blood-red wine. "I'm the designated driver, which means you need to get wasted on my behalf! Why am I the liveliest out of you bunch when I don't have a drop of alcohol in my system-"

"That's all to do with the fact that you've swigged down five energy drinks within the past half hour," Hikari supplies an answer, yawning in the process.

Miyako adds, "Do you know how unhealthy it is to do that to yourself, Mimi?"

"Just because you're a nurse doesn't mean you know everything!"

When Mimi and Miyako get into one of their heated arguments, Hikari closes her eyes and falls back to sleep. I take this chance to pop into the women's lavatories.

The bar is way too crowded for my liking, with the air consequently being sticky and heated from all the people. I let out a sigh. Despite being in the toilets, I'm pleased that it's less busier here than outside.

I finish my business, soaping and pouring water over my hands, and drying them.

As I gravitate back to the bar. My throat feels parched so I line up at the bar, deciding to pinch a jug of water before returning to the girls.

That's until somebody taps my shoulder...

"Hey."

I cringe when I see who's addressed me. Even though I may be __slightly__ tipsy, I notice that the person speaking to me is ironically one of the guys in the car that had stopped besides us at the traffic lights.

If I had the ability to disappear out of thin air, I would have used it by now.

"You're that girl from earlier, aren't you?"

I nod as I give him a tight lipped smile. "Hello."

His dark eyes examine my face under the dim lighting. If I don't take into account that he's scrutinising me like an absolute sleaze, I'd think of him as handsome. Tall, lean, nice short jet-black hair and a pretty lopsided dimpled grin. The gene pool did well for him.

Handsome or not, I'm no cougar.

If anything, he looks like he's just turned legal. I had known he was younger when I had spotted him in the car earlier, but up close in person he looks even younger than I had anticipated.

He offers me a hand to shake, and I try not to laugh.

"Ryosuke's my name." I shake his hand because I can't find myself to completely reject his not-so-smooth moves. "And who are you, gorgeous?"

 _ _Save me!__

Turning around to glance at the table where my friends are, I see that they're already looking at me. To my displeasure they all have amused, mischievous expressions spread across their faces as they observe me in this sticky situation. I don't even need to ask them for help to know that they aren't going to save me - the __traitors__.

I lie, "Saori."

That would do as it's close enough to my name. It's not like I'm going to give him any real details anyway. Once I get my water, I'm going to leave and-

"What's your favourite food?"

I raise a questionable eyebrow at him. Now he's really thrown me off guard.

Why would he want to know my food? Is this how younger boys pick up girls now? Would he take to a restaurant that specialises in the cuisine if I were to tell him?

"Okonomiyaki," I reply. Even though I hold no interest for Ryosuke, I'm partially interested where this pointless conversation is going to lead us.

"Really now?" Ryosuke gives me a slick smile. "What do you say I cook it for you some time? If you come over to my apartment, I can make you some-"

"Seriously?" I gasp out. I don't know if I can stop myself from laughing any longer. We haven't even had a proper talk and he's already inviting me over to his place.

"Absolutely, Saki," Ryosuke responds, addressing me with a different name than what I had told him.

I correct him, despite me lying about my name. "It's Saori."

"Saori then." He gives a dimply smile as if he used it one too many times to be forgiven. "You see, I'm free most nights. Since I've got university and work going on, I'm only free weeknights from ten in the evening to four in the morning...wait - why are you laughing?"

Although I may not be having the greatest night, moments like these are worth going out and laughing my ass off over. __Is this guy kidding me?__ How had Ryosuke managed to ask my name, lamely hit on me and non-hesitantly ventured to shamelessly inviting me over to his place to sleep with him...all in a total of less than five minutes?

Who in their right mind invites somebody to their house and kicks them out at four in the morning? Did he think I was that dumb enough to not see through his hidden, sly intentions? If I hadn't found this highly comical, I would have found his approach quite insulting and harsh. If this is what boys do and say to get girls to sleep with them nowadays, I - for sure - have _no_ faith in humanity.

"You're quite the jokester, aren't you?"

Ryosuke winks. "Only for you, babe."

Shaking my head to myself, I give him a mocking peck on the cheek. "I'd prefer to not be anywhere near you, hun."

I'm about to take this cue to leave him there, but he anchors an arm around me and uses his other hand to give my bottom a squeeze.

How _repulsive!_

Instantly, I'm pushing him off my body and letting out a feral growl. This pisses me off. My blood is boiling and I can feel my cheeks flaring up, a trait of mine whenever I get angry. This is understandable since I am beyond angry right now - I'm __furious__ _._ What gives him the right to do what he did?

He starts to talk again, "Saki, I mean Saori-uh..wait- _ _shit__ _!_ "

I gracefully sock him the gut and walk past him without bothering to look over my shoulder.

The girls are gawking at me when I arrive back at the table. What could have been a good night has turned sour and I need to get out of here before I entirely lose it.

"We're going," I spit out, storming out of the bar.

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While the bar had been obnoxiously loud and rowdy, being inside the convertible in dead silence is equally uncomfortable.

The ride to the bar had us excited and looking forward to the night, but now the mood has reversed and is the polar opposite.

 _ _What a night...__

I admit that it is partly (well, __mainly__ ) my fault that I've made the atmosphere tense, but we all already knew that as soon as we had set foot into the bar we were in for an awkward, draining night.

Perhaps the girls imagined that going to the bar would be a remembrance of our youth, one last hurrah before I settle down – that, and I know that they've been wanting me to meet my future _somebody._

As all of them are now, and officially, partnered up with somebody, their recent project has been to try and pair me too. They think that I want to have the same thing as they have, believing that it's the best for me. I shouldn't be upset at them because they are thinking about me, but I also find it insensitive.

Just because I'm single doesn't mean they have the right to put me in these peculiar experimental situations to meet men. Like tonight, for instance, has been an _absolute_ disaster. Besides, it's not like I'm looking for a relationship either. I'm happy doing with what I'm doing now, and me committing to somebody feels like I'd be selling my soul - and I'm...well, I'm not ready for that.

The car swerves around the corner.

I glare at Mimi. She looks peevish as she bites onto her bottom lip, gripping tightly onto the steering wheel. It's unlike her to keep quiet. I know she's holding off her irritation towards me, but if anything I should be the one that's more annoyed.

Nobody's saying a word because they don't know how to react.

They're not used to me losing my temper because I'm usually the calm and rational one in the group. I don't want to speak because I might say things that I don't mean. If I am in a better mood, I would have told them that I'm not peeved by them, but I can't do it because I'm still fuming.

The silence drags on for a bit longer until I hear Hikari whisper to Miyako in her not-so-quiet voice, "I told you we should have done a sleepover instead."

"Don't blame me. Mimi is the one who suggested it."

"It sounded like a good idea," Mimi joins their conversation, talking as if I'm not there.

"Sometimes you girls can't read the atmosphere," Hikari tells them.

"How would we know that the men at the bar would look half our age?" Mimi grumbles. Now that she's uttered a word, I know that she won't stop speaking. More words, that she had been holding back, continues to filter out of her. "And none of you were making it better with Miyako being all frantic over Jyou's messages and, you, Hikari nodding off-"

"I was _tired_!" Hikari exclaims, outraged. "I woke up at five today! You try having children, Mimi!"

"How would I know? It's not like your brother thinks about the future! I've told him countless of times how I want kids, but whenever I raise the topic he's been evading it. All Taichi cares about his car more than-"

 _ _THUMPPPP!__

"- _ _me__ ," Mimi ends, quite shaken as she gapes at the disaster before us.

I cringe, opening my eyes as I recover from what has just happened.

While Mimi and Hikari had been bickering, Mimi had lost control of the car and had us rearing off the road and onto the footpath. I had felt the impact as the front bumper as it had crashed into a tree. It was lucky that Mimi had stepped on the brakes on time because, if she hadn't, we could have all died.

 _ _Happy Birthday to me indeed...__

"Shit!" Miyako swears, like she always does, but this time her tone is fuelled with panic. She unbuckles her seatbelt and the next thing I know she's opening my door and peeking in to see if we're alright.

Miyako's gaze dashes past me when she's I'm unhurt, but frowns when she assesses Mimi's state. "Meems, you're bleeding."

"He's going to kill me. I've hurt Ayaka," Mimi trembles, terrified.

Miyako grunts, "You should look at yourself. Your head is bleeding. This is why you shouldn't take so much sugar."

There's a reason why Miyako's an emergency nurse. I only notice this now as she gets us into order, forcing us out of the car and assigning as roles. Miyako makes Hikari assist her as she treats the gash on Mimi's forehead, while instructing me to check out whether the vehicle is still safe to get us back home.

I give one final glance at Mimi, knowing she'll be under Miyako's care, before edging towards the front of the vehicle.

The damage isn't as bad as I had expected. There's a huge dent on Mimi's side of the car and the bumper is partly detached from the car. I kick it and, to my luck, the bumper slides back into place. I walk around the car to see if there is any more faults and register the punctured tyre.

I'm assuming that that flat tyre may likely have happened before the accident, and could have been the main reason why we had crashed.

Although Mimi isn't the best driver, she would have never voluntarily lost control the car - unless she is suicidal, which I assure you, she is not.

"How is it?" Hikari questions me as she holds out a handful of gauze for Miyako to access.

"It should be drivable. A dent to the bumper, but it looks like we'll need help with a flat tyre," I explain. "If any of you girls _know_ how to change a tyre, that is?"

When they don't reply to me, I shrug. "I had to try. I'll go find somebody to give us a hand."

In my head, I cross off the contestants of worthy candidates that would be willing to help. Taichi's not in the country. Takeru's looking after his children. Jyou's on a night shift. Koushiro knows nothing about vehicles. And my parents? They're in Okinawa being all lovey-dovey and holidaying it up as their own delayed gift for their wedding anniversary three months ago.

I wrap my cardigan tautly around my body, scrambling down the road for anybody present. It's proving to be difficult as I had forgotten that it's past midnight and there's hardly anybody about.

When I'm about to give up and resort to calling for roadside assistance, I suddenly hear a murmur of an engine. It's gradually getting louder. From the direction where the sound is coming from, I scrutinise a white dot in the horizon gradually transiting into a decipherable shape. _A motorbike?_ The closer it gets, the more the object illuminates the night and I can discern a person riding the two-wheeled vehicle.

Without thinking, my feet deliriously leads me onto the road. I've rushed in front of the motorbike, waving my hands in the air. I drop them down when the motorbike ceases moving forward.

The brakes screech and the vexed driver speaks roughly at me, "Do you have a death wish? I almost ran you over."

"By how this night has been, I might as well ask for one," I say, offhandedly. I refrain from ranting more because it's not the reason why I require his assistance.

He mutters impatiently, "If you don't plan on killing yourself, could you kindly get out of the way then?"

"No." I roll my eyes. "I need your help."

"Well, that's a pleasant way to ask for it." The stranger sighs, unimpressed. He appears disgruntled that I've stopped him from reaching his destination, but I see him coasting off the seat. When both his feet are on the gravel ground, he breathes out, "What's wrong, miss?"

He takes off his helmet and sits it on the seat, before folding his arms that unintentionally shows off his broad shoulders. He's intimidating. Why am I asking him for help? He might call the rest of his biker gang and then we will _surely_ be in danger.

His dishevelled blond hair falls over his eyes as he leers at me, lips pressed downwards. "So?"

I scowl. "Don't worry about it."

Pivoting on my heel, I walk away from him. I may appear mean and an awful person for doing this, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. I've already had enough drama to deal with tonight and I don't want anything else to go wrong. I'm thirty now and I don't have time for this.

He holds me back.

I eye that his fingers are wrapped around my wrist. "Let me go."

"You said that you wanted help," he tells me. The coldness in his tone has disappeared. His voice is softer and he sounds vaguely concerned. "If you're really serious about wanting to take your own life-"

"Oh, God no," I blurt out, immediately figuring out what's ticking in his head.

While his voice had sounded concerned, his facial expression also carries the same weight. He's frowning and his blue eyes, in the moonlight, are flickering with worry. "It's not something to joke about. If you really think like that, I can get somebody to help you."

I use my other hand to gently take his grasp off from around my wrist. How long will we keep going round in circles for him to actually believe that I'm not an actual nutcase? Sure, I may seem like one having run out in front of a moving vehicle - but all I want is to get back home and sleep this dreadful nightmare away.

"As much as I'd love you to psychoanalyse me, I really don't need your help on my sanity. However, what I do need is some aide to change a tyre."

He repeats, "A tyre?"

"Yes, a tyre," I respond.

He states, "I don't see a car."

"That's because it's three blocks down."

"And you think I'll believe you after all this?" The stranger remarks.

"I don't care if you believe me or not!" I finally shout out. "If it had been a normal situation, I wouldn't have run out in front of you."

"A _normal_ person wouldn't do that either."

I heave out, "You are __impossible__."

"You're crazy," he replies, massaging his temple.

"Good. That's great! Of course I'd be crazy by now after my __fantabulous__ birthday," I reply, almost shrieking. "Now leave. I don't need you anymore."

My hands are on my waist as I watch him take a step back towards his motorbike.

I'm better off without his help because he is driving me up the wall. Maybe it's a good thing that he'll go because the more I talk to him, the more I want to kick him in the balls.

He clicks the helmet around his head, switching on the engine. The stranger's eyes rest onto mine as he hesitates from driving off. He reconfirms, "You really don't know how to change a tyre?"

"Well, it's not like I innately know how to do it," I mumble, looking away from him in embarrassment.

The stranger flicks off the engine.

I'm about to tell him a thanks for finally agreeing that I'm not a lunatic, until I hear Hikari's voice drift into the air.

" _ _Yamato__?"

.

* * *

 **(a/n)**

**incorporating some real life events in here. The ' _okonomiyaki line_ ' has actually happened to me before (it was udon though) as well as driving (well, in my case it was reversing) into a tree. /fun times.

Therefore, this was a enjoyable chapter to write. And yes...there are bound to be mistakes because I'm horrible like that.


	3. chapter three: tired, drunk or groped

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter three

 **t** ired, **d** runk or **g** roped

 _._

.

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* * *

" _Yamato?"_

I grimace. The stranger has already witnessed me go hysterical, but what's making it worse is that Hikari _knows_ him. I'm mortified by this and I know I can't take back the words I had just spluttered at him.

When the stranger recognises Hikari, he glidess off the motorbike seat. It throws me off as I am bemused when Hikari gives him a brief hug.

He speaks to her fondly, "How are you, kid?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?" Hikari smiles. "Takeru hasn't mentioned that you're back in town."

"Because I haven't told him. I've _literally_ driven down the coast over the past three days because I didn't feel like taking the train. I'm around the corner from my place and it's unfortunate that only now I had to get stopped by…" The man raises his eyes to meet mine, waiting for me to introduce myself.

" _Sora_ ," I tell him, awkwardly.

To my surprise, he peels into laughter.

I don't know why he is. My name isn't an odd or uncommon one so I don't understand why it's the source to his amusement. He had accused me of being a lunatic, but perhaps it's actually he that needs to be getting a mental check-up?

Something is vaguely familiar about him. His facial structure is defined and his complexion is quite light for somebody of our asian ethnicity. From his natural undyed blond hair and twinkling blue eyes, anybody could pinpoint that his features passed as somebody of a foreign background, or even half Japanese.

The only person I know that is half Japanese happens to be Hikari's husband.

That's when it clicks. Why hadn't I noticed earlier? The resemblance is uncanny.

"Takenouchi, right?" he chuckles, confirming another similar trait that he shares with his younger brother.

And, of course, I should know him too.

I give him a wry smirk, "Ishida, right?"

"Nice to finally meet you," he replies.

"Likewise."

The thing is I don't know Yamato Ishida but I know _of_ him. However, we've never _physically_ met each other.

In a not-so-stalkerish-way, to be specific, I've known about him for over a decade. It's guaranteed to happen when you know the same group of people and because he is always brought up in conversation amongst our friends. Every time I'm present to one of our friend's social events, he happens to be busy and when I'm not free, he attends. It's not like we've been playing a game of hide n' seek; we've just simply never crossed paths.

The closer I survey him, there's no mistaking why fangirls crazed over his band. I had never been much of a fan for rock music, so I hadn't paid attention to Yamato's band. And in photos spread across my friends' homes, Yamato seemed to have an apparent habit to remain scarce. That, or there were hints of him in photos: his side profiles, back turned or his hands covering his face.

"So you are real? You _do_ exist," Yamato concludes, waving a hand in front of me as if to decipher whether I'm a mirage or not.

Hikari looks on, quite amused by our interaction.

"I like to think of myself as very much alive," I retaliate. "And here I thought you were just some pretty face gracing the magazine covers. I was beginning to believe that all my friends were being delusional to think that they _actually_ knew a famous rockstar."

It's funny how we all befriended each other.

After spending my female-only highschool days with my childhood best friend, Mimi, we were delighted when we got accepted to the same university in Tokyo. While she took a food science course, I had studied marketing and business and through a mundane business subject, I had met Taichi Yagami.

The tutor had put Taichi and I in the same group for an assignment, and when I had loosely spoken about soccer during the meeting, Taichi had stared at me in bedazzlement. After that momentary awe had faded, he interrogated me about what position I played in highschool and then _forcefully_ encouraged me to join the university team. Since I couldn't speak to Mimi about soccer, Taichi soon became the guy best friend I had lacked growing up with.

Considering I was friends with Taichi, it was only natural that he introduced me to Koushiro (who had also taken the same bland business subject), and later to his sister Hikari. I had instantly clicked with Koushiro, but Hikari took a while to warm up to the idea of me. You know how older brothers are protective of their younger sisters? Well, it was more like the opposite with the Yagami siblings. Hikari was _very_ protective of Taichi.

Hikari speculated that I wanted to date him, and she only officially let me off the hook when she realised that he was more of my friend than a potential love interest. Well, I think it had to do more with the fact that she figured out that Mimi was the _bigger_ threat. After the sibling protectiveness had evaporated, Hikari and I had transformed into a sister I had never had - the voice of reason, which was refreshing when you've always been around somebody like Mimi.

From my connection with Hikari, Yamato's brother - Takeru - came with the package. According to Taichi, Takeru and Hikari had been childhood sweethearts since they were in diapers. Therefore, it was the least bit surprising when they had gotten married straight after they had graduated from university. I hadn't attended their wedding, because I was overseas at that time, and they _still_ give me grief for it.

I'm sure that if I had attended the wedding, I would have met Yamato. And, seeing him alive and in the flesh, feels surreal. He's like a fictional character that has popped up from a book and come to life. He's a real life Santa Claus, only he rides a bike (not a sleigh) and instead of handing us a bagful of presents, he's willingly providing us his assistance.

"Our friends aren't being delusional." Yamato then steals my line and repeats, "I like to think of myself as very much alive."

"Alive or not," Hikari finally cuts in. "We could use a hand changing the tyre."

To my abhor, Yamato fills her in, "That's right. Sora almost died trying to get me to help. You all spoke about her like she was the best person ever, but you didn't warn me that she has suicidal tendencies."

"You're not going to live it down?" I let out a strangled sigh.

"Never." Yamato casually shrugs. "Let's just say I like people grovelling at my feet. Makes good blackmail. That's how you cleverly get Taichi to do your chores for a week."

"I was wondering why he was excessively visiting your house last month," Hikari snorts.

The three of us make our way back to the car, with Yamato taking extra precaution as he rolls his motorbike along the footpath.

When we get there, Yamato gawks in astonishment at the damage. " _No way_. Taichi is going to have your head for this, Mimi. Ayaka is his baby."

"Don't remind me! My head is already hurting enough as it is!" Mimi cries out, but then recognises it's neither of us girls addressing her. She sits up from the grassy nature strip, perking up when she sees Yamato. She sniffs, "Why are you here?"

"Apparently to save you all," Yamato grumbles. He nods at Miyako in greeting, who in return gives him a toothy grin. "Let's just say it was a fateful meeting."

Hikari fills in the gaps and I finalise the story, remarking, "In other words, Yamato and I have finally met."

The comment makes the girls collapse into fits of laughter. At least we're finding some humour in this. After the crash, we'd been a sullen and a chaotic mess. The newcomer has brought some light into our darkness. And, despite my foul mood earlier, I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

Yamato and I have been an infamous topic for a long time, being an ongoing joke to our friends because we hadn't met each other.

In 2011 I recall hearing that Takeru had made a wager with Koushiro, over five of Mimi's famous chocolate brownies, that Yamato and I wouldn't meet in the next six years. By then, Mimi was no longer selling the brownies at her bakery so, instead, Koushiro resorted to purchasing Takeru five erotica novels in replacement (much to Hikari's appall because she'd ramble on about Takeru wanting to be ' _creative_ ' in bed).

Miyako has previously described Yamato and my relationship as the Romeo and Juliet of our time. On the other hand, Mimi would unreasonably get upset at us for not going on double dates with her and Taichi, since Yamato or I were prone to third-wheeling in on their dates.

"Come on, rockstar," I murmur. "We need to get to work."

"Are you mocking me?" His lips quirk.

"Perhaps."

There's no point being grumpy. That, or I'm slowly beginning to sober up. Mimi becomes a tease when she's drunk, Miyako gets all dancey, Hikari weeps over everything and I have dramatic mood swings - which is explaining why I've been feeling extra emotional tonight.

I take the keys from Miyako, unlocking the trunk. I fumble around, digging out the tyre and handing it to Yamato.

"And you need my help?" He questions through breathless huffs as he spins the new tyre to the front of the vehicle. He lets the tyre fall onto the gravel, arching his back and then studying me. "You look like you've done this before."

"This happens to me all the time," I respond to him. I fetch the gear needed for the tyre-changing, passing it to him. "I usually get Taichi to change it for me and I just watch him do it. Bad luck is attracted to me."

"That...or are you a bad driver?"

I supply, "A combination."

He laughs.

Why is it easy to talk to him? It doesn't feel like this is our first encounter at all. Then again, when being friends with both Taichi and Mimi, one has to be patient and adapt to any spontaneous event. Yamato and I must share the same sympathetic traits, especially when we're constantly tolerating the headache of a pair.

"Are you guys flirting?" Miyako pipes up, evil glint in her eyes.

Considering Mimi's sobbing again, Hikari had dragged her into the car. Which means that Yamato and I are unfortunately left with the annoying nurse.

"Oh, we're not flirting." I say, sardonically, "We're figments of each other's imaginations. "

While crouching down, Yamato plays along as he squints at the flat tyre, "How is it possible to flirt with somebody when they're not real? Are you seeing things, Miyako? Don't tell me your schizophrenic…"

"It's not funny to make jibes at the crazy," Miyako comments.

I smirk. "Sorry Miyako. Didn't mean to offend your kind."

Miyako shoots me a glare.

Yamato requests, "Can somebody give me a light?"

"Ask Hikari."

He looks at me, amused. "I wasn't joking. I didn't need you to make a pun on Hikari's name-" **

"Oh, I wasn't," I reply, sheepishly. "Only her phone has battery. All of ours have died."

Miyako vanishes from our sight, making it her duty to snag Hikari's phone. She probably wants to get away from us ganging up on her. If anything, I'm curious how bad it would be if Taichi were here. Bullying Taichi, with Yamato as my accomplice, sounds wickedly enticing.

When Miyako returns, she flashes the light at us.

"Permanently blind us, why don't you?" I grumble.

I turn to Yamato and see his left hand shuffling inside his leather jacket pocket. He pulls out black-rimmed glasses, putting it on. Yamato catches my gaze and studies me. "Your hair is red. If I had seen you properly, I would have recognised you immediately."

"And is there something wrong with redheads?" I query. Ever since my university days, I had been dying my hair the same dark auburn colour. The colour has stuck to me ever since.

"Not at all. Taichi always would goad that your personality is as fiery as your hair. Made sense how you ran in front of a moving vehicle-"

"Can you _stop_ it?" I groan.

Miyako, for once, supports me, "Sora's not usually this fiery. Only when she's tired, drunk or has been groped...which is all the above that has happened tonight."

"Groped, huh?" Yamato flinches, pausing from unbolting the tyre. He shudders. "I know the feeling."

" _What_?" I say, incredulously.

"At the concerts fans would always grab my butt."

I can't help myself from giggling. "Really? You must have enjoyed all those girls feeling you up."

"And boys," Yamato added in repulsion.

"That's because you have a pinchable butt," Miyako slides in.

It's Yamato's turn to groan. "Are we seriously talking about my butt right now?"

"I don't see the problem to because you have quite a cute butt." Miyako simply shrugs. "Don't you think so too, Sora?"

I quip back, "Leave me out of this."

"No, I'm sure that there are many people who agree with me. It runs in your genes, Yamato." Miyako continues, "Hikari always talks about how Takeru's butt is _squishable_ -"

"Too much information," I gasp out, trying to shake the image out of my head. Yamato is silently agreeing with me because his face is a tinge green, distorting in pure disgust.

I blame this on Miyako's occupation. Ever since she had been working as a nurse, she has no shame whatsoever. She _has_ to be inappropriate at times; chattering about things ranging from nudity, disgusting diseases or bodily fluids. Don't get me started about the time she was describing green faeces, to the girls and I, when we had been stuffing our faces with chocolate mousse over the table. Let's just say the mousse remained untouched after Miyako's _descriptive_ account.

Miyako's won this round.

Half an hour later, Yamato finishes swapping the punctured tyre for the new one. He stands up, rubbing off the grit from his knees and then peaks inside the car. "Mimi, it's done. You'll have to get the dent fixed though. Taichi's back on Monday, so you've got to see if you can get somebody to fix it up either today or tomorrow."

"Thanks Yamato!" Mimi lunges at him, giving him a grateful hug. "You're the greatest!"

Her tears are dried and she is no longer blubbering and being an unbearable sulk. I would feel pity for her, but it had been her fault for driving Taichi's car in the first place.

Yamato gives us girls a glance over, frowning. "I don't think it's safe for any of you to drive. Being women and all-"

" _Hey_!" Miyako snaps at him for the offhand insult, firing up her feminist side.

"-Mimi's not in the right state. Miyako, you mentioned Sora's drunk-"

"I'm not!" I exclaim, but admit, "Just slightly tipsy…"

"-Hikari's a menace on the road, and the purple-head _still_ doesn't have her license."

Before we can convince him otherwise, he takes the keys from me and hops into the driver's seat. Since Miyako's pushed herself inside the back with Hikari and Mimi, I go back to the shotgun position.

Everybody is too tired to speak. It's a different mood from when we had left the bar. I wouldn't say it's a comfortable silence, but it's much better than earlier. That, and I'm glad to have come across Yamato. He really _has_ saved the night.

After Hikari and Miyako are dropped off, Mimi's already dozed off.

Yamato queries me, "Where do you live?"

"I'm a block away from Shinonome Station. Do you know where it is?"

"Yeah. Five minutes from Tokyo's Zepp, isn't it?"

"Have you played there?" I guess.

He nods. Thankfully, his tone is absent with smugness when he speaks, "When the band reached its peak we did many gigs there."

"I see," I reply, but I really don't.

Yamato's lifestyle is something I would never know of. I may not be educated in music, but his band's hit singles and number ones didn't go unnoticed. His band, _Knife of Day_ , was famous before they had split up two years ago. While many of us had our heads in books and studying for exams, Yamato had been memorising sheet music and touring all over Japan. I don't think I can ever relate to what he's experienced.

It bothers me that, despite his celebrity lifestyle, he's kept engaged with my friends. He knows tidbits about them that I had never acknowledged. Let's just say that Yamato _had_ thrown me off guard when he mentioned that Miyako didn't have her license because, _well_ , I never knew that!

When he presses the brake in front of my apartment, I unbuckle my seatbelt. I glance over my back to Mimi, who is still snoozing away, then I turn back and perceive his deep blue eyes looking at me under the moonlight. The colour is very similar to Takeru's eyes. While Takeru's eyes are filled with mischief, Yamato's eyes are somewhat unreadable and reserved.

"Uh-um," I stammer. "Thanks for tonight, Yamato. Thanks for existing, because if you hadn't we would be still on the side of the road, whining and, well...the night would have been horrible."

"Well, thanks for existing too," Yamato chuckles. "It's pleasant to know that my friends weren't lying when they would tell me that you were a real, living and breathing person."

I simper. Before I'm about to amble away to my dwelling, I point at the sleeping passenger at the back. "I trust you'll drive her home in one piece?"

"I'm more trustworthy than you are for letting her drive Taichi's car," Yamato slyly retorts.

"I walked into that one," I confess, reenacting the accident in my mind.

He doesn't deny, "Yeah, you definitely did."

I take my cue to vacate the car. Slipping on my heels, that I had taken off in the car, I carefully take a step onto the footpath. As I march away, I hear a beep and I glimpse the car drive past, windows rolled down.

"Happy Birthday, Sora!" he calls out.

Stretching my arm towards the sky, I wave my hand and keep walking with a huge grin on my face.

.

* * *

** It is true. Hikari means ' _light_ ' in Japanese.

 **(a/n)** Who would have thought this practical joke on myself would keep going? Third chapter in? What a surprise...and to think that now I've also sunken into the depths of writing Harry Potter fanfiction too. Save me. -_-" Anyway, thanks for reading this chapter.

Next chapter: Enter Taichi ;)

*edited this again


	4. chapter four: over beer & chocolate

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter four

 **o** ver **b** eer **&** **c** hocolate

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* * *

 _Tick tock_

I drum my fingers on the glass surface.

As soon as the clock strikes seven, I'm out of here. I cast a glance at the door for the millionth time today, itching to escape the store. I can't wait for this day to end. I'm usually the patient type, but as of late my patience level has been steadily deteriorating.

 _Tick tock_

My manager materialises by my side, bending her knobbly knees as she slides out an array of gleaming pendant gemstones from under the glass. She places the tray onto the transparent counter, rearranging the stock.

Taeko is cute.

She turned seventy-something last month and is _still_ working. If I were her, I would have retired by now. Taeko has told me that she dislikes being at home alone for long periods because she ends up thinking about her deceased husband. She likes keeping active rather than being holed up in her own home. In addition, the boutique jewellery store has been running by her family for over a century now. The store's so special to her that she's mentioned to me that she wants to keep the store going until she can no longer walk.

Talk about dedication.

As well as tending to the store, Taeko takes care of me as well. She's like my adopted grandmother. When I was jobless and everybody refused to hire me, she had meticulously examined my application and actually _wanted_ to employ me. Even though I did not fit under the junior bracket pay rate, she said that she preferred to hire me because I've had the most experiences both within Japan and internationally. She trusted me on the spot, and from her instant trust and faith in me, I naturally warmed up to her.

The elder woman addresses me, "Sora?"

"Yes?"

"You can leave today."

"Sure, Taeko," I mutter, absentmindedly. I gaze longingly at the wooden antique clock. Half an hour until I can leave and-

 _Wait..._

"What?" I exclaim.

My manager is looking at me all concerned. She tucks a loose grey hair strand behind her ear, forehead wrinkling as she studies me with a frown. "Darling, you've been in a zombie-like state ever since you've walked in this morning. Is everything alright, Sora?"

I smile gingerly. "Am I that easy to read?"

"Oh, honey. You're the focused type, so whenever your mind wanders it shows on your face," Taeko laughs. "There are no customers here. I can close the store myself. Something's bothering you, and you should attend to it immediately."

"But there's still half an hour left," I reason out. I should be jumping at this opportunity, but I can't help but feel guilty for abandoning Taeko when she is one of those rare managers that I actually respect and like.

She places a hand on my shoulder. "Go, Sora. Think of it as making up for all those times you've worked over-time."

I bow lower than I usually would before going into the staff room to snatch my belongings. I thank her again before sprinting out of the store.

The jewellery store is located between the city of looming buildings and this prestigious suburb. I'm not taking my usual route home back to the city, but have opted to head away from the skyscrapers and towards the houses.

This suburb is an expensive one. The mere fact that there are even one level houses this close to the city is a rarity itself. If I were to earn double my salary, I'd definitely invest in living around here. It's not because of the suburb's classy reputation, convenience and general liveability - but because I have many friends who live in this neighbourhood.

Which is why I'm here.

I'm visiting a friend and I _can't_ wait to see him.

To be honest, this particular friend is the source of what has been 'bothering' (described in Taeko's words) me all day. I couldn't find it in my soul to tell Taeko that it wasn't an urgent matter because if I had, she wouldn't have released me from work. A white lie can't hurt, right? Besides Taeko had jumped to the conclusion before I could properly explain myself.

As the pedestrian lights signal red, my pacing ceases.

I bend down, hands on my knees as I wheeze for air like a fish out of water. I feel like I've run a marathon. It's darn embarrassing that I'm so breathless after this short run. The younger me would have been very unhappy with myself if she ever found out that I had become _this_ unfit. I seriously need to hit the treadmill later on this week.

Once the lights _finally_ strike green, my feet pound against the cement pavement, swiftly dashing down the block.

When I arrive at my destination, I'm panting as I slip through the iron gates and into the property. I enter the passcode from memory, hearing the static-sounding buzz as the door unlocks itself. Welcoming myself inside, I struggle for balance when I take off my work shoes. I neatly align them next to a pair of sneakers.

The sight causes me to bite back a giggle. It's just like him to not put them onto the shoe shelf. Mimi _always_ complains about this to me.

I scamper down the hallway and eventually hear voices mumbling from the television. I follow the sound and process that he's in the living room. He's back from his holiday and he's already lounging around watching the television? Typical.

Unable to hold my secret presence any longer, I boom out, "TAICHI, WHERE IS THE PRESENT YOU PROMISED ME—oh, _Yamato_? I-I..."

Kill me.

 _Now_.

I luckily am clever enough to _not_ say my initial thoughts out loud. If I had, he would have brought up my suicidal tendencies again, and I don't think I'd have the lenience to condone it anymore even if we have multiple mutual friends.

"Well, well, well," Yamato chuckles. "We meet again, Takenouchi."

"That's Taichi's," I blink, pointing out the obvious.

I avoid his eyes and look dumbly at the emerald green bathrobe that he has wrapped around his body. I remember accompanying Mimi on one of her shopping escapades when she needed help picking out a present for Taichi last Valentine's day.

"Yeah, it is," Yamato agrees, seemingly proud that he had successfully infiltrated Taichi's closet. "And no, he's not here yet if you're wondering where he is. Sorry to disappoint you. Mimi messaged me that they're still on the bus. They'll get back in twenty..."

I reply, "I see."

 _That's right, Sora. You '_ see' _that you're a complete dunce!_

Yamato stretches and motions that I take a seat next to him on the sofa.

I can't gauge his personality yet. I don't know if he's doing this as a casual gesture or to test me. Should I go to the kitchen area and perch myself on a steel stool? Or should I move one of the dining table chairs to overlook the living room? That would require way too much work.

I sigh, lazily.

Both options aren't as appealing as sitting on the comfy sofa. Plus, I don't want to raise my voice to speak to Yamato if we are going to keep talking to each other. And, well, I don't want to look rude for declining his offer and appear like a child that is scared to get boy cooties. Although I prefer that he not be here, I have no choice but to stick it out with him if I want to see Taichi.

Plopping down onto the other side of the sofa, I pull my knees towards my chest.

As foolish as this sounds, I feel like Yamato's invaded my space. I'm meant to be the only infrequent permitted boarder here.I know it's not my own very space to begin with, but it's odd seeing him all comfortable in Taichi and Mimi's luxurious house and treating it like his own.

I've come to terms that I'll never live the rich and luscious lifestyles as my friends. Taichi's job pays a six digit yearly salary, and Mimi's cooking classes have been doing well. I love the pair, but sometimes I can't help but feel envious that they're living it up in style. It's partly my fault too because I could be living comfortably like them if I hadn't traveled a lot during my twenties. If I had wisely structured my life, I would have had my own place by now and _not_ be paying off somebody else's loan.

I give a side-glance at Yamato. He currently has his eyes glued onto the television. I don't really think it's worth watching the monitor because the program that his is observing is an orchestra symphony. If this is the case, he should have put the stereo on.

My gaze then falls onto the coffee table.

I see a plastic bag filled with convenient store snacks and there is beer cans – _a lot_ of beer - surrounding it. There's a handful of chocolate blocks stacked on the table too. I can tell they're not from the convenient store because Taichi had made the effort to import the _Hersheys_ back to Japan from his previous business trip when he had been in New York. I know this because let's just say that Taichi is very _precious_ about his chocolate. In other words, Yamato's done a great job at discovering his secret stash.

"Help yourself."

I utter back, "Thanks."

Grabbing myself a beer, I lift the aluminium tab upwards and take a swig from it. I let out a sigh, wiping the froth away with the back of my sleeve. The beer is exactly what I needed.

Is Yamato good at reading minds or something?

I would be lying if I said that I hadn't thought about Yamato over the weekend. To think that it's my second time to bump into him within the same week! I cast a sideways glance at him. I was so certain that he was a myth, somebody who wasn't real. It's hard to believe that he is here because it's been quite an impressive ten years that the two of us hadn't met each other, despite being subconsciously in each other's lives.

"So what's this present you're eagerly waiting for?" Yamato asks while ripping his teeth into another Hershey bar. "Taichi will be upset when he finds out that you find his present more important than he is."

I mockingly retort back, "Something tells me that you're here for the goodies too."

"That's right," Yamato admits, shamelessly. His eyes are shining like a child being offered candy. "An ABBA vinyl record."

I question him, "Did you specifically ask the vinyl from Tai?"

"No."

"Then you won't get it," I say, bluntly.

He tilts his head, thoughtfully. "Only one can hope."

"Not with him," I differ. "He's hopeless. With somebody like him you have to blatantly spell it out for him, or he won't get it. I, for one, was smart enough to give him the precise photo of what I wanted. I threatened to kick him on the head with his own soccer ball if he didn't get it for me."

"That defeats the purpose of a souvenir though. Won't it ruin the surprise?"

"I don't like surprises."

Yamato gives a low whistle. "Then you're missing out, Sora."

As if to concur with the musician, the room is overwhelmed with the clapping audience on the television.

Now that the symphony is over, Yamato resorts to flicking through channels. After a round of searching what to watch, he selects a channel that is showing the film ending credits to a horror movie. Yamato's not even reading the names in the credits, but tapping along to the beat of the eerie instrumental song.

I find myself staring at him again.

Instrumental music now? Out of all channels he could have settled for, he had picked a channel that was playing wordless music. First I catch Yamato watching an orchestra, then he mentions an ABBA vinyl and now he's resorted to instrumental film credits?!

Is Yamato really a rockstar? I guess that music apparently has no boundaries to him.

"Don't you love movie soundtracks?" he wistfully comments. "This definitely sets the mood for a scary movie, doesn't it?"

"Hm..."

He arches an eyebrow at me. "What?"

I scoff, "My friend's right about you."

"In what way?"

"That you hold onto music more than a woman."

As soon as the words had escaped my mouth, I feel slightly embarrassed for my unintentional bold directness. I'm not that close to him to say an offhand comment like this. I had only meant to emphasis his obsession with music, not his rumoured philandering conquests...

His eyes spark, amused more than angered at my remark. "Taichi's told you that, huh?"

"No." I reveal, "Mimi did."

He chuckles again. He pushes the subject back on me. "And what about you? I hear that you're quite the traveler. Is it true that you went skinny-dipping in Mexico?"

" _What?!"_ I splutter out, almost spitting out the mouthful of beer I had half-swallowed.

I hadn't told anybody that story except for Mimi (the betrayer). _Damn it, Mimi!_ I had sworn her to secrecy about this one! If the guys in our group of friends find out, I'll be the laughing stock at every social event. Well, I'm more scared of Takeru actually. Yamato's younger brother has a sinister, notorious talent for blackmailing.

"So Mimi told you that, huh?" I copy his line, and I frown when he shakes his head in response.

He replies, "Taichi actually did."

 _Argh!_ Darn Mimi for telling Taichi. The duo have a bad habit of relaying information to each other. If Taichi had told Yamato, then the whole world already knows; I'm sure of it. This is exactly why I hate smitten couples.

Whenever I think about smitten couples nowadays, Miyako and Jyou come to mind. Now they're disgusting. And, by disgusting, I don't mean in a public display of affection sense (Taichi and Mimi effortlessly top the ranks on that countdown), but by how _unbelievably_ sappy they are.

Fine. Alright. I admit...I might be acting like a cold-hearted bitch right now.

I mean, I'm happy for Miyako. Though, I just feel like Jyou's _stolen_ Miyako from me. Hikari and Mimi have been off the market for eons, so Miyako was my last source of hope - my last person who I grew attached to who would keep me company. And now she has _deserted_ me and left me in the cold. Before it would be the two of us, happily independent, single and not having anybody hold us down. If I were to randomly say that we go to Hokkaido for the weekend, she'd promptly pack her bags and join me without a second thought.

Talking about Miyako – while I had been musing about Yamato over the weekend, I had been suspicious of their friendship. There is some fondness between Miyako and Yamato that I don't quite get.

I comment, "Miyako and you hit it off well."

"She gets along with everybody," Yamato acknowledges. "And I don't really understand this abrupt change of topic-"

"I just want to know why. She approves of you. Miyako is the type that either likes or hates somebody. And, I noticed, that when you'd tease her, she doesn't lose her temper or get stubbornly defensive."

"Are you suggesting she likes me?" Yamato pales. "No, if that's the answer you're looking for. We're only friends and I don't think I'll ever see her that way."

I fold my arms. "Then why do you both appear so chummy?"

"I get it." Yamato rolls his eyes. "You don't trust me. Is it because of my womanising ways or because you're being over-protective of your friend?"

"Both," I confess. "I'm curious too."

"If you _must_ know," Yamato starts, "If my brother hadn't married Hikari, I probably wouldn't be close to her. She was the maid of honour, and I was the best man."

" _Oh."_ I had never thought of that.

He chuckles. "She was a wreck. She would clumsily step everywhere and I had to catch her a few times from falling over her heels. In a way, Miyako is like a younger sister I've never head. When Takeru got older, it was harder for me to dish out insults at him because he became good at retaliating back – a guarantee when he has a darn gift when it comes to words. Anyway, Miyako's been my outlet. She's so childish and it's easy to make fun of because she verbal insults and doesn't get too mad about it."

"As well as a womaniser, you're a bully too?" I gasp, sardonically.

He smirks. "It's dependant on the eye of the beholder."

"Really? If you wanted to tease somebody, why don't you pick a fight with Mimi? It's easy to get under her skin."

I don't even know why we're chatting about this. I feel like we'll be both going to hell by how we're conversing on which person is better to poke and make fun of.

"Her? No way!" Yamato muttered, "She'll dig her claws out. I'd rather get into a brawl with Miyako than her."

"Why?"

"Miyako initially gets angry but the next day she's forgotten why. Whereas Mimi….she'll say she's over it, but you know that deep down there somewhere she's thinking about it and finding multiple ways to plot your death. Mimi's very vindictive."

"I don't disagree with you there. She does hold grudges and can be manipulative when she wants to be." I wince, having been on the receiving end of Mimi's devilish deeds one too many times. "You know my best friend well."

"If you are friends with Taichi then she, unfortunately, comes with the package."

I throw a cushion at him and he lets it rebound to the floor, continuing to munch on another piece of chocolate. He gives a small smile. "Hey, I'm just being honest."

"Sure you are." I roll my eyes.

He chortles.

"Thanks for the other night though," I murmur. Even though I've expressed my gratitude before, I can't help but do it again. He had really saved our back then. "Is the car all fixed up now? Mimi told me that you were handling the situation."

"All sorted," Yamato simpers. "Got one of my friends to mend the bumper and he even did a decent paint job. It looks brand new. The thing is whether Taichi will notice it or not..."

"Do you think he will?"

Yamato nods. "He's observant of Ayaka."

"To the point that he's crossing the line of sanity," I add.

"You could say that." Yamato suddenly hesitates for a brief moment before proposing, "What do you say we make a bet?"

"On what?" I'm not one for taking bets. I usually leave bets to the boys because they put up the steaks abnormally high. It's their favourite thing that the boys do in their past time. Yet, I'm curious what Yamato has to say.

"Taichi." He leans back onto the sofa. The side of his lips are beginning to slope upwards. "It's either he realises something is wrong with Ayaka today or some other time."

"You're excluding the fact that he might not notice at all?" I point out.

"He'll notice," Yamato says, confidently. "That's why I'm limiting it down. I say that he'll notice it today and I'm getting the impression that you're thinking he'll perceive it on a different occasion."

Yamato has hypothesised correctly of my notion on the matter. Mimi had sent me the photos of Ayaka and the job had been a good one. I wouldn't have seen any difference if I hadn't known about the damage.

I consider, "What happens to the loser?"

"The loser gets to keep the other person's souvenir," he negotiates.

It's distressing thinking that I have sacrifice my present to Yamato if I'm not victorious. However, I firmly believe that Taichi's not going to discern the damage straight away. It's already night time and he'd possibly be too jet-lagged to process any information. Besides, I can probably sell the ABBA vinyl for a decent price at a pawn shop. I could collect a mini fortune out of the vinyl.

"Deal."

I shake his hand, affirming our wager that I hopefully won't regret...

.

* * *

 **(a/n)** So...I lied. Taichi was _meant_ to be in this chapter, but Sora and Yamato kept talking longer than I had anticipated. He _will_ appear in the next one. I didn't want to rush his appearance by putting him in this chapter because it's already lengthy enough. And Sora's souvenir will be revealed next chapter, in case you're wondering why I haven't actually said what it was. XD

Anyway, thanks for reading/reviewing guys! :)

 **P.S.** I've started a series of one-shots called 'Taxi Driver', which will focus on each individual digidestined. /ends shameless advertising./


	5. chapter five: disgust, happiness & guilt

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter five

 **d** isgust, **h** appiness ** & g**uilt

 _._

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* * *

 _Be there in five..._

I tuck my phone back inside the back of pocket after I've read Mimi's message.

Glancing at Yamato, through my mouthful of chocolate I mumble to him, "They'll be here soon."

In reply, he simply gives me a gruff nod and then turns off the television. I stare back, questioning his actions and he merely shrugs.

"Why don't we surprise them?" he suggests, eyes glinting as his lips curl into a suspicious smirk. "It just feels anti-climactic sitting here like ducks and having them come back. You can bet that Taichi is going to complain of how tired he is from the flight; and then put up a fit about how we've finally met each other, especially when he wasn't there to witness the ceremony."

I laugh at him. "Yes, that's quite predictable. I can see that all unfolding in front of us..."

Yamato responds confidently, "Which is why we should surprise them."

"You're being immature." I try to hold myself back from openly rolling my eyes.

"Possibly. I blame the combination of beer and chocolate," Yamato chuckles. He points out. "Besides, you're not disagreeing with me."

"It's childish, but it's not a bad idea," I comment. I eagerly rub my hands together. "So, Ishida, what's our plan of attack?"

"I was thinking that I'd rely on you for this. Apparently, from what I've heard, both Taichi and you would give Mimi grief and prank her throughout your university years."

"No point denying it since you practically know everything that happens in my life from two particular chatterboxes," I dryly retort. "And, if you were in my shoes, you'd know how much fun it is bullying her. It's amusing getting Mimi all worked up, despite her retaliating back can get brutal at times. She's very-"

"Manipulative?" Yamato supplies.

"Yes, that's the word. You seem to like to use that word when you describe Mimi," I notice.

Yamato chuckles. "But you aren't denying that either, are you?"

"Hm...you _do_ have a point."

He turns off the lights and gestures that we take base in the kitchen. Inside the tiled area, I squat down behind the kitchen bench on his right. It's a basic hiding spot, but it'll do. I trust Yamato's decision here. The minimal effort; the better. Picking a complicated hiding place is a hindrance. We're both too old for this, so putting more effort into something that's meant to be adopted for children is tiresome.

The hallway is conveniently located next to hallway leading to the lounge; therefore it will be easy for us to sprout up from our positions and - _hopefully_ \- terrify , it still does feel foolish that Yamato and I, a 'grown' man and woman irrespectively, are playing hide-and-seek.

Under the dim lighting Yamato catches my gaze and sends a sheepish smile towards my direction. At least I'm not feeling the same about this idiocy.

We hear a distant sounds from the entrance, followed by the unlocking and slamming of the door.

"Taichi!" I make out Mimi's irritated voice, as they a rustling sounds with bags and belongings. "Put the shoes in the rack. That's what they're there for-"

"Come on. I'm exhausted, Mimi," Taichi groans. I can't help but smile at listening to Taichi's voice because I haven't heard it for a while, despite him being scolded by his girlfriend. "I've just had to deal with a baby that wouldn't stop crying for the whole plane flight-"

"I don't care. Shoes have a home and they belong on the shoe rack!"

Taichi snidely returns, "If there is _any_ space on the rack. You're the one who takes up all of the space and - _ouch!_ Did you just hit me?"

"For somebody so tired, you're complaining a darn lot. Hurry up. I'll push my heels away to make some space for you." I hear some movement and shuffling around before Mimi proceeds to sarcastically say, "Wow, that was hard work...wasn't it?"

A moment later they're ambling down the hallway. From the corner of my eye, Yamato's shoulders harden as if preparing to be engaged into battle. I stifle back a laugh.

The couple stop half a metre from us. Although I can't see their bodies, I can see their feet sticking out from behind the kitchen bench. Suddenly, I hear a loud dull thud against the wall. I'm confused, but the emotion immediately fades as it is replaced with repulsion.

"Taichi, _stop,_ " Mimi's voice giggles out. "Sora and Yamato...they'll be here soon."

"They can wait. We don't have to answer the door. We can tell them that we decided a last minute trip to Hokkaido or something-"

"And that would be _totally_ believable. They might believe your fib, but they know that my job is indefinitely stationed here and-"

"Like how you're indefinitely stationed to kiss me back, hun."

"No, I am not-" Mimi breathlessly gasps, pausing mid-sentence, "Damn it, Taichi. I don't want to have to spend extra time tomorrow using concealer to hide any more of your hickeys."

"Be quiet."

Alarmed, I glance back at Yamato. I'm torn between laughing aloud and copying the same expression on Yamato's face as his nose scrunches up, face contorting in absolute disgust.

" _Holy._ " I whisper and curse at the same time.

"Make it stop." He cries out softly so that only I can hear him. "My retinas are getting damaged."

"Ishida, I blame you." I mumble back, "If you hadn't had this idea-"

 _Thump!_

I flinch as I watch Taichi and Mimi fall onto the floor. Mimi has climbed on top of Taichi and aggressively begins to tear off his shirt. His first button pops off. I watch as it skids on the ground, rolling in circles before dropping flatly an in inch from where Yamato and I are positioned. I hold my breath, attempting myself from holding back a snort.

Mimi leans over to plant a kiss on Taichi's clavicle her. As she does, her gaze lifts and her honeycomb eyes land on us. Eyes widening and her mouth gapes and she lets out a glass-shattering scream that possibly can be heard from all their neighbours on the block.

"AHHH!"

Taichi pushes Mimi off, instinctively crawling in front of her as if to fend off the common burglar. His face relaxes, but he looks slightly peeved as he stares daggers at us for interrupting their make-out session.

"Damn it, guys," Taichi complains, sitting onto his buttocks. He straightens his white shirt, attempting to button it up, but failing as he appears to have forgotten that Mimi had, just a moment ago, clawed the top button off. He runs his fingers through his bushy mop of a head and gives a smile devilish smile.

Mimi's stands and switches the lights on. Her hands are on her hips as she glares at us. She groans, unimpressed, "Why'd you do that for?"

"Trust me," Yamato replies, lips twitching in discontentment at our failed attack. "We've learnt our lesson to never sneak on you guys again. You've permanently scarred us."

Taichi irritably snaps, "Serves you right for spying. It's called karma, Ishida. Learn from it."

The brunette's gaze shifts to me and regardless of my previous repulsion from my friends making out, I lunge towards him and give him a hug.

"Welcome back, Yagami." I grin.

"Oh?" Taichi arches an eyebrow as he eyes me. "What do you want?"

I release my grip around him, folding my arms. "And why would you dare think that? Don't you have _any_ faith in me?"

"No," he replies bluntly. "You've been pestering my the whole time. Takenouchi, I swear that you've sent me more messages than Mimi has!"

"But it's important! I needed to remind you."

"Sure," Taichi sighs. "Sending me the image of it every day was something I needed. I had to get it on my lunch break and even lied that it was for my niece. Do you know how guilty I feel that I got you this gift, and nothing for my niece and nephews? Keep this from Hikari. She'll have my head if she found out that you got a souvenir. Seriously, Takenouchi, you should be ashamed of yourself for asking this from me. You do this every time I go to a different country."

"That's right." Mimi bristles, "Aren't you too old for this, Sora?"

"What exactly is it that you're eager to receive?" Yamato questions, tired of being left out of the conversation. He watches as Taichi unzip his luggage, thoroughly searching for my soon-to-be latest prized possession to add to my collection.

Yamato had asked me before Mimi and Taichi had turned up, but I had diverted the conversation away. Not everybody knows about my secret obsession, and it isn't something I like to tell everybody. It's not embarrassing...well, maybe it is. It had been a hobby I started when I was younger and I never grew out of it. Actually, I don't think of it as much as a hobby. It's just something I like to collect and before I knew it I had a room full of it.

Another time I would have told my best friend to shut her trap, but I can't wait any longer. I'm kneeling besides Taichi and helping him rummage through the belongings. Taichi swipes my hand away when I almost touch his boxers, yet it doesn't prevent me from browsing through another compartment of the luggage.

"HA!" I exclaim, triumphantly. "Found it!"

Tautly wrapped around in bubble wrap I see the fuzzy brown stuffed animal squashed inside the packaging. I tear at it, ripping it vertically. When the bear falls into my shaking hands, I jump up and down like a child who has consumed too many sweets and chocolate.

I proclaim, "I love you! Thanks Taichi!"

A wide grin plasters my face as I examine the cute bear, attired in a floppy red hat and a navy blue coat. I give Taichi another fierce hug that makes Yamato stare bewilderedly at me like I had lost the plot - the same type of smouldering stare he had directed at me when I had run in front of his motorbike.

I don't care. Yamato can think of me as crazy for all I care because Paddington Bear is the new addition to my bear collection!

"The only girly thing associated to Sora when she was growing up, and prior to me introducing her to make-up, was her fixation for bears," Mimi reveals to Yamato my dark, dirty secret.

"And here I thought that Taichi had bought Sora expensive jewellery or something. I guess it's her present wasn't as precious as I thought-"

"Paddington Bear is precious! He's London's iconic bear." I blurt back a protest. Taking the bear's paws, I dangle the stuffed animal in front of Yamato. "Isn't he adorable? How stylish is he? He's got so much personality."

"You never warned me that Sora has this scary side," Yamato says dramatically, as Taichi gives a shrug and Mimi lets out a giggle.

"Well, I was waiting for you to meet her so that you could decide for yourself," Taichi deadpans. "I'm still offended that I wasn't there to see your first time encounter. When Mimi told me that you met her I thought she was joking. You're lucky Yamato was free to pick you up from the club. I heard you got really drunk, Sora-"

Yamato and I cast Mimi a dry glance. She really knows how to lie. Why did she even say that we met? It's a good thing that Taichi is gullible at times because that comment to Taichi did not feel close to believable at all.

I try to act casual and mumble, "Anyway, did you get Yamato a vinyl?"

"What vinyl?" Taichi grumbles. He squats down and starts to fumble through his belongings for a specific article of clothing. "Oh, I got him something amazing. This is yours, Yamato."

Yamato takes the gift from Taichi, using two fingers to pinch at a side of the crinkled shirt, staring at it in a rather confused manner.

I immediately recognise the scarlet colour and I gasp out, "That's a _signed_ Manchester United shirt!"

"A _what_?" Yamato frowns, holding the shirt between his thumb as he flimsily holds it up in the air. How can he be touching such a sacred shirt in this type of manner?

And this is the exact reason why I had been so determined to show what Taichi I wanted. If I hadn't had told Taichi what I wanted, he might have brought me a bright orange (he loves this colour, which makes him naturally think that everybody likes it too) umbrella or a hideous ceramic mosaic vase of the Queen. There's a standard rule to Taichi's fickle logic; if Taichi thinks it is great, he believes that everybody has the same opinion. This flaw in Taichi's personality has gotten him into trouble one too many times and he _still_ hasn't learnt from it.

"It's a soccer team," Mimi whispers under her breath to Yamato, who nods, still confused.

I point at it. "Not _any_ soccer team...but the best one!"

"They haven't been playing well this year though," Taichi points out. "Chelsea's doing better-"

"No. They're still the best," I cut him off.

We migrate to the lounge. While I'm bickering with Taichi about soccer standings, Yamato tabs off a couple of beer and passes to Taichi and Mimi irrespectively. Taichi takes a sip and growls when he sees the opened chocolate. "I was being lenient about you wearing my bathrobe, Ishida...but worming your way into my chocolate?"

"Not my fault you got me an inadequate souvenir."

"It's _not_ inadequate!" Taichi and I bark out in unison, for once agreeing. Mimi sniggers.

We chatter amongst ourselves. Useless chatter. A lot of inside jokes. Some I get, others I don't (mainly when they're jeering Yamato or Yamato is taking jabs at them). And it's nice. I hang out with Mimi and Taichi so often, but every now and again I can't help but feel like a third wheel - even though I know they don't do it intentionally. It's good that Yamato knows them just as well as I do. It's comfortable and I'm having more fun right now than that Friday night when the girls had dragged me out to celebrate my own aging demise.

However, throughout our aimless conversations I can't stop myself from ogling at the scarlet shirt. When we all had taken a seat in the lounge, Yamato had thrown the Manchester shirt over the sofa like it had been a piece of garbage. How could he treat the special shirt with carelessness? The shirt is beautiful, it is stunning, it is amazing, it is-

"How's our baby going?"

That sentence throws me off my trance. I glance at Taichi and from my side vision, I can see that Yamato's got the same traumatised expression on his face as I have. I glare at Mimi, "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"What baby?" Yamato barely manages to breathe out.

"No? Me? _What?_!" Mimi gapes, voice shrill. "I don't have a baby, thank you very much! I would know if I was going to pop out something, Taichi! What are you saying-"

Taichi chuckles. "No way. We're not having that any time soon."

I could have sworn I saw Mimi's shoulders slope down. Taichi has a _great_ thing with words sometimes. He's absolutely gifted at reading situations being a _complete_ idiot. Although Mimi hasn't been pressuring Taichi to propose to her, hasn't he seen her getting all clucky with Takeru and Hikari's children? What an idiot.

"Then what are you talking about?" I query him.

"Who else am I talking about, Takenouchi?" Taichi mutters, impatiently. "Ayaka!"

" _Oh_ ," I reply slowly.

Mimi and Yamato tense up and I try to the utmost of my ability to avoid staring at them. It's a crucial moment because although Taichi may not be the smartest cookie whenever reading awkward situations, he's not stupid and is bound to catch on if we all start acting oddly.

I'm a good liar when I have to be, Mimi's - unfortunately - horrible at it. And Yamato? Well, I don't know how bad he is and - _damn it!_

As I think about it, my gaze has involuntarily fallen to him. I can see his lips slightly twitching upwards and I try to hold back a groan. I'm glad Yamato's smirk is not obvious and is easy to miss, but if one looks closely the expression on his face is as bright as day. My eyes are tearing up and I'm pinching my arm to stop myself from letting out a laugh. Yamato's not going to give us away; it will be me if I don't get my shit together.

Yamato hits me on the leg to try and subdue me from exploding. This makes me momentarily choke. My eyes widen and Taichi tilts his head, looking at me in concern.

"The beer went down the wrong pipe," I wheeze out an explanation.

Taichi doesn't get the chance to reply because Yamato immediately dives in and begins to ramble, "Yeah, you shocked us there, Taichi. Good one. How would we know that you were talking about your darn car? I was beginning to feel sorry for your spawn. And the thought of imagining you as a father is nightmare inducing. Don't you remember that time you almost drowned Hiroto when you babysat him?"

"That was eons ago," Taichi replies.

I correct him, "Five years ago."

"Eons," Taichi concludes. "And stop over-exaggerating. I'm not _that_ horrible with kids."

Yamato scoffs, "You saying that you aren't horrible as kids is just as realistic as Mimi winning a karaoke challenge."

"Hey!" Mimi shouts, offended. "I have a _great_ voice!"

I'm chortling. Yamato's a genius. He's pinpointing Taichi's lack of skill when babysitting and targeting Mimi's weakness. It's a winning strategy to prevent Taichi from discovering that Ayaka has been damaged, therefore saving Taichi from killing us and dealing with his wrath.

Just when we think he's forgotten about Ayaka, Taichi suddenly bounces off the sofa. Jet lag doesn't seem to affect him as he claims it to. "I'm going to see my baby now."

Mimi lets out a sigh, following after Taichi as they leave me with Yamato. I'm about to follow when Yamato kicks me lightly on the back of my leg. If he had done it harder, I would have fallen over.

I glance behind me. "Well?"

"He'll find out," Yamato predicts. "If I were you, I wouldn't step into the garage with them."

"We can't leave Mimi alone," I mutter, guiltily.

He questions me, "Did you talk her into bringing the car that night?"

"No," I admit. "But still-"

"Sora, let her deal with it. Don't take the blame for something you didn't do. We all know it's Mimi's fault."

"But-"

Yamato shakes his head, standing up. He pulls a snack that has been left inside one of the plastic bags on the table, leisurely ambling away and leaving me at the lounge. I crane my head at his direction and see him disappear into the kitchen.

Had he seriously walked away because he didn't want to argue with me? Letting out a sigh, I follow him.

"What are you doing?" I ask as I see him place a paper sachet into the microwave.

He choses not to reply to me (which I find incredibly annoying), continuing to shut the microwave door. In half a minute, my question is soon answered by the sound of popping.

I remark, "You're making popcorn at this critical moment?"

"The popcorn was bound to come in handy. Let's just not butt in, Sora, and enjoy watching all hell let loose from afar. I knew the popcorn would come in handy for tonight. This makes for more interactive entertainment than watching any of those movies on television."

"You're evil," I comment, trying to bite back a smile.

"I was going for smart." His blue eyes are twinkling with mischievousness. I give up trying to conceal my amusement, letting out a giggle.

He hands out a bowl of buttered popcorn. I grab a handful, stuffing a few into my mouth. "We should definitely check on them before they kill each other though. You joining me?"

"Of course I won't let you suffer alone," Yamato chuckles. We head off to the garage and he speaks up, "Do you reckon he's found out already?"

"Either he will find the scratch while examining Ayaka, or Mimi's going to blurt it out," I guess. "I'm betting it will be one or the other."

"So you're betting Taichi will find out today?" Yamato says. "Before you thought he'd find out another day."

"I've changed my mind then."

"Then what's it in for me?" Yamato jokes, "Do I get your bear?"

When he sees me not laughing along, he waves his hand in the air. "I'm only kidding, Sora. You can have your bear. You can even have my shirt if you want?"

"Your shirt?" I look at him strangely.

Pink tinges his cheeks. "No, not my shirt that I'm wearing! I'm talking about the Manchester shirt."

"Oh," I laugh. "Really? But it's a present from Taichi. You should treasure it and-"

"You like the team. I have no idea about soccer. It's yours, even if I have won this bet I'll give it to you," Yamato states. "Besides, if you had won this bet, I wouldn't know _what_ to do with your Paddington Bear."

"Hey, it's not confirmed that you've won the bet-" I pause when we step inside the garage. "-yet…"

I flinch when I notice Taichi bending over as he studies the bumper in inspection. His lips are in staring at a particular in unblinking concentration. "What's this scratch over here?"

Time's frozen still. Mimi's pale, hand resting on the brick wall to support her body. She looks like she's going to faint at any second. Yamato's choking on some popcorn; while I'm absolutely mortified because I know this is going to turn out _very_ badly.

Taichi has yet to stare at any of our guilty faces. He breaks down onto his knees, face ash-stricken and he cries out, "Who the _fuck_ did this to my baby?"

 _Oh shit._

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 **(a/n)** I guarantee there will be mistakes in this chp. Will edit it tomorrow/this week. Sorry for the delayed update. Weddings (not mine - heh), flu, ending a friendship, while me being crazy and taking extra shifts at work - in other words, everything has been drama-filled and meh.

This chp was unexpectedly long, and the scene at Mimi/Tai's apartment dragged out longer too. I hope you liked it though ;) Thanks for reading!


	6. chapter six: parenting vs babysitting

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter six

 **p** arenting **v** s **b** abysitting

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"- _absolutely_ hideous!"

Although she's a few rooms down, I can hear my dear, dear mother complaining her trap off. If I had prior warning to both father and her ambushing me at my apartment, I would have done a quick clean up...yet I _know_ that even if I had tidied up my mother would still be unimpressed because she's the type of woman that is never happy about anything.

I throw on a beige T-Shirt dress. As I pull on some black leggings that I've left draped over the desk chair, I continue to hear her repugnantly mouth off the pastel peach curtains by emphasising to my father how cheap it made my apartment look.

"Honey, I don't ever remember raising our daughter to inherit such atrocious taste. She must get it from your side of the family!"

Rolling my eyes, I tie my hair into a loose bun. I already know that once I get out of my room, my mother will then attack how my hair is messy, but I'm in no mood to argue. It's her fault that she _decided_ to appear at my doorstep unannounced.

One last look at the mirror and I walk out of my room, ambling past the kitchen and the lounge before heading towards the front door. I'm rummaging for my favourite pair of burgundy leather boots when my parents join me. They had been sitting in the lounge, but had evidently seen me hastily stride past them.

"Where are we going? I thought we'll be eating here tonight?" My mother questions me, forehead wrinkling as she sees me zip up my boots.

"Out," I say, tersely.

The longer we're in my apartment, the more prone I am to starting an argument with mother. It's not like I want to start arguing with my mother; it's just I know she'll start picking at every detail in my apartment that she disagrees with, until I'll explode at her.

Gratefully, my father catches onto my motives of escaping my apartment and follows my footsteps. He's leaning down now and bowing up his shoelaces and I just want to kiss him for going along with my plan. My dad's adorable.

She frowns, disappointed. "You're not cooking for us?"

"I've run out of ingredients," I half tell the truth.

I can cook for myself, but I wouldn't have enough ingredients to stir up something for my parents. Besides, whenever I do, my mother has made it a habit of hers to criticise everything I make and _then_ , somehow, link it to that being the reason why I'm single.

 _Oh, woe is me._

"Sora, darling, haven't I told you enough times about how you should always be prepared? You need to look after yourself more. If you can't look after yourself, how will you care for your future husband?"

"Like that's happening any time soon if I don't have anybody now," I mumble in a low voice to myself. My father catches my words and gives me a small sardonic smile.

I take my parents to the closest _Denny's_.

It may not be a five-star restaurant, but pay day isn't this week and I don't think I can afford taking them out to somewhere expensive. I can't bring myself to splitting the bill with them because I'm no longer a child anymore. They may still think of me as one; but I can't bring myself to latching onto my parents forever - that was why I had moved out. That was why I traveled. That was why I wanted my own form of independence...I was sick of being their little princess. If I had continued to live with them, I would be guaranteed comfort. However, I preferred living by myself and surviving on my own income.

Anyway, I know that my parents have no problem with eating at _Denny's_. We're practical when it comes to food, and it's always helpful that this family restaurant has a broad menu to choose from. When I was younger, my parents would take me here occasionally, so the restaurant also brought back memories I shared with them too. A win-win situation, really.

After we order a hamburger steak, spaghetti carbonara and a chicken salad, I quickly dispense three glasses of melon soda and bring it back to the table.

I feel slightly foolish serving the kid's drink to my parents and myself; but it's always been our _Denny's_ tradition. Onlookers would think it quite peculiar that three grown ups pick the green, bubbling liquid as our carbonated beverage of choice - yet, to the three of us it is immensely amusing.

" _So._..how's work?"

My mouth is full with spaghetti when my mother begins her interrogation run. It's like she's intentionally asked me this question while I'm eating because she knows that I'll snap back at her. I finish chewing, swallowing down the pasta. I then take a swig of the soda, glaring at her direction.

"What about it?" I can feel my eyebrows twitching.

"Oh, _you know_ , darling."

Let's give a round of applause to my mother; the prime woman at being indiscrete and having a natural knack for swinging passive-aggressive comments without hesitation.

My mother knows very well where I work and what I do. Nothing rarely changes in my work environment, as all I do is assist customers with selecting which jewellery item they fancy - whether it be for themselves or their special other. The customers either reject the item or purchase it. And it isn't like I don't get along with my colleagues because they're a great group of people that I enjoy working with. Asides from new stock in the jewellery line, nothing else has changed since the last time my mother has asked me...even if it had been merely a week ago. She disapproves of my job and takes every opportunity she can to mock what I do.

At first I had taken my mother's comments to heart, but as the years progress and the older I get, I've learnt how to deal with my mother's uncalled for attitude.

"What _exactly_ do I know?" I dare to answer back.

My mother replies, "That when your boss leaves the stores and sells it off, what are you going to do? She's too old to be working-"

" _Mother_ ," I whine. "Dad, can you tell her to stop?"

"Sora, you know that it's impossible for me to do that." My father explains in a serious voice, "She's a force that even I can't deal with. I didn't know that when I asked her out on a date; I'd also be selling my soul away-"

"Be quiet, honey. You fell for my looks and charm," she quips back.

Father teased, "The charm, maybe. But as the years pass, I'm not so certain about the looks…"

My mother whacked him on the arm, and his reserved stature has dissipated as he collapses into a chuckling fit.

At times, I wonder whether my parents are actually older than I am. It all comes down to the fact that the two had married straight after high school. They had been high school sweethearts and had had me when they were young. I'm sure that if my parents hadn't gotten together while they were in their early twenties, I don't think I'd get along as well with them. I've noticed many of my friends with their parents, and I see how stiff and awkward they act around each other. I'm thankful that my parents and I aren't like that around each other. In fact, sometimes I think of them more like older siblings than anything since I was raised as an only child.

Considering my parents wedded and had me at a young age, my parents had to work harder than most couples, therefore deciding against me having a sibling because they couldn't afford to pay for one. My mother had continued the family's florist, while my father had studied a Science degree at Tokyo University. While he had studied, my mother was the primary money earner in our family - which is why, to this day, my mother appears to hold the pants in the relationship. Well, that and my father is _still_ deeply in love with her. And, sometimes, I can't help but feel of their relationship.

"If work is the same; what about your love life?"

Without missing a beat, I let out a loud groan. "You're seriously going to ask about this again?"

"Well, your mother and I met when we were in high school-"

"-which _isn't_ my case. I'm different from the both of you. My nonexistent love life is not the same as yours!" I cut my father off.

"But you're not getting any younger. You've turned thirty. It's harder for girls to get married after they've reached that age."

I click my tongue. "And what if I don't want to get married? Mother, what if I want to explore the world and-"

"Haven't you done enough of that, Sora?" My mother's eyes lit up, angrily. "You've already gone _frolicking_ around the world, trying to find out what you want in life...but haven't you ever thought that it may be a partner, a man, that you're missing?"

"So what do I do? What do you _want_ me to do?" I throw my hands up in the air in strife. I'm _so_ tired of defending myself against everybody whenever they took a stab at my single status. "Should I just throw myself at the next male creature walking by and tell them that I want to bear their children?"

 _Perfect_ timing.

A waiter just so happens to collect our empty plates. His face is beetroot red as he realises the conversation that he has literally walked into. The poor guy looks like he's still in college, but nevertheless he'll have to be the hostage that I'll use today.

"Do you want me to bear your first child?" I exclaim, sarcastically. I may be exaggerating and be going overboard about this, but sue me. I'm over it.

"Uh…"

" _Would_ you?" I say, indulging mirthfully at my own evilness as my parents look at me incredulously, possibly wondering if they've birthed Satan. "Be my sperm donor?"

"Well, you are very pretty, miss...but, I-I don't even know you!" The waiter splutters. He gives a swift bow before hurrying off before I can proclaim my undying love for him.

My father closes his eyes. "Sora, you'll be the death of me. I reckon men flock away from you because you're scary."

"Are you really describing me as _scary_ when you're sitting next to the personification of _crazy?_ " I point at mother who rolls her eyes at me.

"Darling, you have not reason to overact here. We were only wondering-"

"Well, _stop_! Please stop," I bristle. "Even today my boss, Taeko, tried to set me up on a blind date with her neighbour's son. It appears the elderly also pity my sorry ass."

" _Language,_ " my father scolds me.

My mother however tilts her head, thoughtfully. "Do you have a picture of him? He might be really cute."

"There's a reason why they call it a blind date, mother."

"Why don't you accept her proposal?"

"Because I don't know him!"

"Isn't that the purpose of the blind date, then?" My mother points out, matter-of-factly.

"No," I say. "Anyway, I've told Taeko that I'm not too keen about her suggestion. And, trust me, I've been to a handful before. The girls have made me do it over the past years, and they always tend to end in complete failure."

"How about trying it again? This time you might be lucky."

I stubbornly fold my arms together. "I don't want to."

For once, my mother doesn't reply. She uses the napkin to dab her lips before quietly departing to the toilets. I feel uneasy because I'm used to my mother retaliating back, but this time she's actually left the table.

I focus on my father who sighs. "Sora, you know that she only wants the best for you. You're our only daughter."

"And?"

"Sometimes I understand where she's coming from too," my father admits. "I wonder if I'll even meet my grandchildren before I die."

I grimace. "But that's not my problem."

"Sora, I like and admire that you're independent and that you like doing things for yourself, but sometimes it is nice to have somebody you can depend on. We worry about you being lonely because one day, what will happen when we're gone?"

"I will, but just not now, dad. What do you want me to do? The waiter already rejected me. You know that I'm not the type of girl to pick any guy walking down the street."

"I know." My father vaguely smiles. "One can wish though."

My father always has a way with his words. And even when I'm not meant to be feeling guilty, I can't help but be. I do want to please my parents; but I don't think I have it in my ability to. Trusting somebody, putting my time into another person, working together to achieve the same goal...I don't know if I can do that, as I've always relied on myself all my life. And, in all honesty, I don't know what I want to do.

How pathetic. At thirty and I'm _still_ clueless about my life.

"Alright, dad," I cave. "If I go on this date, will you cut me some slack? How about a year of not bringing up my love life or my career? How does that sound?"

My father grins. "Fantastic."

And something like this tells me that I've actually fallen for my parents' trap.

The duo are quite cunning; I've gotta give them that.

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I find myself at the Takaishi's doorstep.

Much to my displeasure, none of my girlfriends are answering their phones.

Well, I've contacted everybody but Mimi. My best friend is still in a sticky situation with Taichi after he had found out the minor damage on his car. That, and I know, if I were to vent to Mimi she would switch the conversation back to her and about her relationship with Taichi - which is exactly something I do _not_ need right now.

My Thursday night has turned out to be a disaster. With my parents invading my privacy, I'm going through a mid-week crisis. I want a good laugh. I want somebody to comfort me; and right now _none_ of my friends are available! I don't know why it's bothering more than usual today - it's possibly because my parents have rubbed in my face that I have reached the dreaded three and zero. My years don't even add to be half of fifty anymore!

Oh hell. It sucks to be me.

Miyako had messaged me back and told me she was at work, and Hikari's phone automatically keeps being transferred to voicemail.

Since Hikari's not answering, I've decided to invade her home. I knock on the door. It's a Thursday, so I'm sure she'll be home…

" _Miss Takenouchi_?"

I'm torn between hysterically laughing and crying my eyes out. I have a list of people that I don't want to bump into right now; and _he_ happens to be one of them. How is it that somebody I've managed to avoid seeing all my life happens to pop up everywhere as of late?

"Ah, Yamato," I grumble. "Enough with the last name calling. It's Sora. My name is _Sora._ "

He looks at me, observantly. "You're upset."

Yamato isn't guessing my mood; he's stating it. Because he's making it more apparent and awkward, I'm tempted to hit him on the head. Why is he here? Where's Hikari? I need female company, not male - especially when I'm beyond irritated and having somebody point out that I'm upset is not helping at all.

"Sowa, why are yew sad?"

 _Darn it._

A little girl is staring wide eyed at me. She's pouting, cheeks puffed as she stares at me from behind Yamato's leg.

Really? Risa's puppy dog eyes should be illegal.

"Aunt Sora! You're sad? Who made you sad?" Hiroto jumps in front of Yamato and his sister. He's got a plastic katana and is slicing it in the air, attacking an invisible imposter that is apparently behind me. "I'll slay them! I'll protect you, I promise!"

Yamato raises an amused eyebrow. "I guess you have yourself a samurai at your bidding."

"Great," I say under my breath. "Exactly what I need."

I drop down into a squat, giving the two kids a hug. "Hiroto, you're exactly who I need. Why can't you be older? I'd marry you."

"Really?" Hiroto replies, ecstatically. He's skipping around us now. "Aunt Sora wants to marry me!"

Yamato ensures that Hiroto's back inside and snorts. "That sounds paedophilic on your behalf. You shouldn't say things like that. You'll keep his hopes up and he might actually believe it."

"Who said I was lying? It's all for my ego. At the rate I'm going, it will be he who is keeping my hopes up," I tell him.

"Sure," Yamato mumbles. "Do I even want to know?"

"Let's just say it's been a rough day."

He gestures for me to go inside and once I'm in, I'm welcomed by Keita's wailing.

Yamato dashes from my side and sprints to the living area. I follow him inside. The house scents of curry rice, whereas the living area looks like a tornado had torn through it.

It's nothing out of the norm in the Takaishi household. Having three children, who were infamous for creating mess, naturally created the atmosphere. Toys are scattered across the floor. Half-eaten meals are left askew over the coffee table and the television is on, playing devastatingly loud nursery rhymes that makes my ears want to bleed.

I bite back a laugh. If I'm reacting like this from the minimal exposure from the three kids; how do my parents think I'll survive having a baby?

 _Baby..._

Yamato's cradling Keita in his arms, slowly hushing him to sleep.

Somehow, I can't help but contrast Taichi to Yamato. If Taichi was here babysitting the kids, I'm sure he wouldn't be able to cope. On the other hand, Yamato's caring for the children with stride. He's multitasking, putting the volume down with the remote control in one hand, while he's using his feet to lightly kick Hiroto and Risa back into their play pen. The place is like a war zone; yet Yamato's turned the place into an organised mess.

I sit on the sofa. "Where's Takeru and Hikari?"

"They're on a date," Yamato replies, holding a bottle to Keita's lips. He walks over to me and sits on my right. "Didn't they tell you?"

"Ah-no," I scratch the back of my head. "I've come here unannounced."

"They'll be back in an hour," Yamato informs. "You can hang out for a bit if it's something urgent you wanna discuss with Hikari. They don't usually stay out till past nine, with it being a weeknight and all-"

"Usually?" I repeat after him. "This happens on a regular basis?"

Yamato nods. "Every Thursday. I babysit the little tykes."

"Wh... _what_?"

"Don't ask me," Yamato shrugs. "Takeru likes to say that it _spices_ up their relationship."

I let out a low whistle. "That makes sense. I was wondering how they keep their marriage healthy."

Yamato flinches at my words. "Don't need to get into more detail about my brother and his wife's relationship."

"Hey," I say. "You started it."

"But you didn't have to continue it," Yamato responds.

A phone rings. Seeing at it isn't mine, I glance at Yamato whose head is now jerked at the phone that is sitting by the unfinished bowls of curry rice. He motions for me to take Keita.

I stare at him, unsurely, but Yamato places the baby in my arms without my permission.

Keita's big eyes gaze at me. He blinks, gargling in laughter when I stick my tongue at him. He has blue eyes like Takeru, but it's a deeper blue that resembles Yamato more. He has brown hair that is as dishevelled as Taichi. He is the exact mix of both of his parents.

Yamato resorts to turning off the television completely. He looks up at the ceiling as he speaks to the phone, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Yeah, yeah. Another time, Jun."

He listens to the person on the other line before grumbling. "Yes, I know. I'm with the kids tonight though. How about tomorrow? Yeah?"

After he's compromised with the the other person, he hangs up and sits back besides me. However, he doesn't take Keita back from me. He fiddles with his phone, typing a message.

"Girlfriend?" I ask him, casually.

"No."

"So you're seeing her?" I assume.

He frowns at me. "Hm, not really."

Yamato's diverting away by giving me closed-ended answers, so I stop prodding him further. If Jun isn't his girlfriend; nor is he seeing her, then I've been brushing something that's supposed to be left untouched. I hadn't known anything about Yamato's love life, and if he's still - at this age - sleeping around, he can do so. It's his life. He's a rockstar, after all.

Even as a celebrity in his previous rock band, he still was secretive about his love life and had somehow managed to keep it disguised despite the media and press stalking him during the peak of his popularity.

I wouldn't have usually brought this topic up, if my parents hadn't plagued my mind today. Love life talks should be reserved for somebody who you are close to. Yamato may be close to all my friends; but I'm not yet at that level with him.

In fact, I blame my parents - they're the ones who have tainted my mind into thinking this way! This is so not like me. That's why I'm feeling unnerved right now because their words never effect me this way, yet here I am, waiting for Hikari to talk some sense into me!

 _Darn it!_

And Yamato? Because he's here, he had somehow turned into a target, an excuse, for me to get my mind off my own problems. It's ironic that Yamato ironically happens to be my age as me, yet he is _also_ single. This guy could have anybody he wanted, yet he still isn't serious about committing to a relationship like I am.

When Yamato realises I haven't spoken back after his reply, he gives a cough. It's like he's trying to make up for being dismissive to me earlier when I questioned about his love life.

To my astonishment, he tries to compromise the atmosphere by chatting about soccer.

"How did you find the soccer game? I hear we tied with Australia. 1 to 1."

I giggle. It's good effort on his part, I have to say, bringing up something that he's not completely fond of. I still remember how he had discarded the soccer jersey and allowed me to keep it.

"Did you watch it?" I glance at him, suspiciously.

"No." Yamato laughs. "Taichi did though. He wouldn't stop talking about it. Apparently he hates it when teams tie. Taichi was carping about how frustrating it it when teams draw. He'd prefer that the team he supports loses over a draw; something about it being a waste of time?"

"Yeah," I agree. "I know. He tells me _all_ the time. I have to say, though, I'm not as irritated by it as he. If it's a tie, that means both teams are evenly matched which makes the game more enticing and thrilling to watch."

We talk for longer until the front door screeches open.

A voice breaks into our conversation, "Bro! You didn't kill our kids, did you? It's sounding awfully quiet in here…"

Takeru and Hikari are grinning as the trudge in, happily holding hands. They look like they're teenagers returning home from an innocent date. It's endearing how loveable they are towards each other. The married couple make me just as envious as I am of my own parents.

"Sora?" Hikari blinks.

"Hey," I nudge my head up in greeting.

If I move, I'm scared baby Keita might wake up. Hikari sees my dilemma and carefully takes her son from me. Her eyes are still questioning why I'm here, and I shrug. I'll talk more to her when the guys leave, or we leave them.

Takeru waves at us both in greeting. He studies us and smirks, "Ah, so that's why? Sora's the one who has lulled them to sleep."

"I'm the veteran at this," Yamato scowls, but his eyes are grinning. "But she has done a good job of taming Keita. He's the biggest handful out of the lot. Right, Sora?"

"Right," I smile.

Although I'm still feeling uneasy about the position I am in now; at least I know that I'm not the only over-thirty person in the world. Even though I haven't discussed much with Yamato, hanging out with him briefly - despite it being babysitting - has made my night seem clearer. Perhaps I don't need to seek advice from Hikari after all…

For all I know; Yamato's on the same boat as I am and he doesn't seem the least bit concerned about his single status.

And you know what? Why should I too?

Screw what everybody thinks.

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 **(a/n)** Wow, this was longer than expected. Hope you liked it ;) This babysitting scene was going to come later on in the story; but somehow I thought it worked best here. Will reply to your reviews now. Thanks for reading everybody!


	7. chapter seven: a jealous lifestyle

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter seven

 **a j** ealous **l** ifestyle

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Let's just say one thing…Taichi knows _exactly_ how to piss me off. He flashes a goading smirk at my direction, dribbling the soccerball past me.

"Keep up, Takenouchi!"

I grit my teeth and snarl, "You stepped on my toe!"

"Suck it up. Don't be such a wuss," Taichi counter-attacks me.

"You're cheating, you ass!" I growl, sliding besides him. I match his pace, attempting to steal the ball back.

Taichi's a good player, but so am I. People have taken me for granted on the field because I'm a female, but once they see me play they get surprised with how competitive I can get. I may not be as bulky or strong as Taichi, but I beat him when it comes to speed. If I hadn't taken soccer as a kid, I would have been better off suited for the track team.

" _Shit!_ " Taichi curses, when I kick the ball away from him and right into the net.

He lets out another defeated groan.

Before Taichi is about to utter a snide, derogatory comment because I've kicked a goal, I'm already bending down and slipping out of my right shoe.

"What are you doing-"

I fling my shoe at him. It hits the back of his bushy head, rebounding and falling onto the green turf.

" _Hey_!"

I spit out, "That's for being a jerk to Mimi!"

Alright, I may have suggested playing soccer with him as an intervention. This all stems down to how much I'm resenting Mimi and Taichi right now.

Both of them have been on my back, complaining about the other to me, which isn't very healthy. While they've got me in the middle of their boxing match, it's frustrating since they aren't directly facing each other about their problems. Because their relationship is strained; so is my life.

It's suffocating being in the middle.

What's even more irritating is that both of them can be, when in the mood, good at communicating...but right now they are being impossible. Why do they _have_ to include me in their problems? I don't want to be their mediator. I'm sick of it! The least they can do is pay for my consultations. I need to charge them from now on if they keep pestering because I don't know if I can take it anymore!

Taichi rubs his head, glaring at me. He exclaims, " _How_ is this even related, Sora?"

I throw my other shoe at him which he, conveniently, dodges.

"You know what I mean!" I bark at him.

Taichi scowls, folding his arms. "What did I do wrong? She's the one who scarred Ayaka and lied to my face about it. And, come to think about it, you and Yamato were in it too!"

"Yagami!" I snap. "Are you _seriously_ going to go on about this?"

"But you all betrayed me-"

"She's not angry at you because of your _untenable_ infatuation for you car." I burst out, "She's tired of you traveling and going on your business trips-"

"Huh?"

"Why do you think she rebelled and took your car out when she already knows how much Ayaka means to you?" I sigh. "She'd doubting you right now because you're not even thinking about settling down!"

"She wants to settle down?" Taichi says, furrowing his eyebrows as if that thought was unfeasible for somebody like Mimi. He denies, "She doesn't want to. Not any time soon. She's never told me…"

"Taichi." I implore, "Trust me. I know the both of you and it's time. Mimi can't wait forever for you. She wants to map out your future and right now, all you're doing is running away from her whenever she wants to talk about it!"

"I haven't-"

I send him a look.

"Alright," Taichi caves in. "Maybe I have been selective of what I've wanted to talk to her about..."

"Exactly. She's been making all the moves. She wants to be with you, it's as clear as day. But you've got to meet half way, Yagami. You can't leave this all on her," I say. "Don't you remember all those arguments you had with her when she moved into your apartment herself? You were so against it, and then after a while you got used to her company."

"It's not the same."

I hiss, "Are you kidding me? It is! You're practically married now!"

He replies, "It's different."

"No, it _isn't_ ," I insist. "You need to be more proactive because right now she must think that your relationship is a joke. Are you even serious about her, Taichi?"

"I am."

"Then _show_ it," I urge. "Think about your priorities."

"Priorities?"

"Yeah." I wince.

I'm possibly breaking the best friend code of conduct right now, as I'm pretty much displaying Mimi's emotions out on an open slate. I feel guilty doing this, but I know it's for a good cause considering how thickheaded Taichi can get. Sometimes Taichi _needs_ to be told. My advice may not be the best, yet it's straight to the point and Taichi prefers it when he isn't being beat around the bush.

On the plus side, I'm also doing Mimi a favour by being here. She thinks I haven't noticed how depressed and moody she has been lately. I've seen how she looks fondly at young parents with children, how she'll sneak a longing glance at Hikari's wedding ring when she thinks nobody is looking, or how she'd rant how jealous she is of a mutual friend moving into a new place together, or going on honeymoons.

I may not at be in that stage of my life to want, or to strive, for this form of commitment, but I know Mimi is.

Taichi is ready for it too, but he's too scared to grow up. He's-

" _Afraid_ ," Taichi ends my thoughts, whispering that word aloud. He's retrieved the soccer ball and is now skilfully kicking it up and down the air, attempting to not let it touch the ground. Like I hadn't heard him the first time, he repeats, "I'm afraid."

"Of what?" I query him.

He admits, " _Everything_."

"You'll be fine," I reassure him, giving Taichi a punch on the arm. He loses focus and the ball rolls onto the turf.

What's said on the soccer field, stayed on the soccer field.

It's like a therapy session between the both of us, as it had been the place that had gotten us closer together as friends.

Strengths and weaknesses are spread out on the field. Amongst the fresh stench of grass, there's something about being able to talk our heart contents out. While I love having an honest talk with Mimi and the girls over coffee or a bottle of wine, somehow working out a sweat on the field while yelling brutally at a sports' mate is also a form of enlightenment. It feels raw and real. I've tried to explain this to the girls before, but they always give me an odd glance, and tell me off because they find that laziness should be encouraged more rather than activeness.

When I think our therapy session is over, Taichi turns the tables back to me.

He gives a wry chuckle. "And, yourself, Miss Takenouchi? There's no destination that you've planned to go to this year? No hiding or disappearing to a foreign land?"

"I _don't_ hide," I dismiss. "I've just decided to start saving money. Besides, I have no funds to get out of the country this time. That brief trip to Greece killed my bank account."

And it's _also_ killing me. I'm nearly past my traveling expiry date. Ever since I caught the traveling bug post university, this has got to be the longest time I haven't been abroad.

Nevertheless, I know that Taichi's rambling on about me traveling because he doesn't want to talk about Mimi. His distraction almost had me there. I glare at him for it.

Taichi gives a weak smile, going back to the topic, "So she's really upset about this, huh...?"

"Kinda," I say, shrugging. "She may seem like she's alright with it, but it's eating her up inside. It's not rocket science, you know? The both of you love each other."

"Stop being sappy before I choke on my own vomit," Taichi tells me, bending down to pick up the ball. "Call it a game?"

"The game ended long ago when we started getting all emotional."

Taichi snorts. "That would be more on your end."

"I'm not denying it." I give a sheepish smile and he pats my back in reply.

We leave the field and start wandering down the block, even skipping Taichi's car and a few local restaurants that we tend to visit after our soccer games. Usually we'd be hungry and peckish, but because the weather's scorching I don't have much of an appetite.

"Let's pop in and see Yamato."

"Huh?" I stare at Taichi, confused.

"He's only a corner around from here and it's his own label so we can interrupt him whenever," Taichi reasons out, not like he's giving me a choice anyway as he walks in front of me and expects to follow. "Anyway, he knows the better places to eat around here and he can get discounts. Even better...we can get him to pay, Sor!"

"Cheap." I roll my eyes, knowing that he really isn't, but I still enjoy taking stabs at him.

Ever since Taichi had gotten promoted, everybody knows that he earns the most out of all of us. Despite it all, Taichi hasn't changed. Whenever he gets the chance to not spend money, and be super stingy, he'll exploit the situation.

I follow him down the street, past a few alleyways until we arrive at an old, white crumbling warehouse. It's one of those warehouses that look like from a detective movie, the ones that criminals use to murder their victims. Quite daunting and imposing, if you ask me.

The paint's peeling, a window is shattered - but not broken into - and the cement ground is irregularly patterned with stains from unknown origins.

"Taichi," I start, "Are you sure? Well, you see...I don't know Yamato all that well and I actually _do_ value my life, no matter how much you claim me to be crazy and whatnot-"

Like the good friend he is, Taichi pushes me inside. "Rubbish, Takenouchi. I heard that the two of you get along."

"Heard off _who_?"

"Hikari. She caught you babysitting my nephews and niece the other week."

I mumble, "Remind me to tell her to shut it next time."

"Never," Taichi smirks. "She's good at finding blackmail material."

"I know," I reply. "That's why she's more threatening than you."

Damn Hikari and her big mouth. She may look quite innocent and reserved to a stranger, but she has the capability of being a loud mouth just like Mimi whenever she has to be. It doesn't help that her, like the rest of my girl friends, have the knack of grouping every single guy I hang out with as a potential addition to my supposed male prospects. Save for Koushiro (I see him like a younger brother), Willis (he's gay), Daisuke and Ken (I don't go for younger guys).

Yamato would have been amongst that fine list of bachelors, but because we've only _just_ been acquainted with each other, he apparently doesn't count. I feel like the rest of the gang have – behind our backs - started a campaign to tease us every chance they'd get. We're the main topic amongst them because we've _finally_ 'met' each other.

Miyako thinks it's fate. I, on the other hand, think it's absolute bullshit.

We walk past the wooden desk and a young receptionist, who waves at Taichi when we walk past her. I follow after Taichi, feeling consciously like a student on a field trip. I can't help but gape as I look around.

This place doesn't look that bad from the inside. Apart from the stained cement, the warehouse is done up. The furnished wooden furniture is simple and minimal, while the high ceilings emphasise how spacious the building is. Above our heads, there are a couple of skylight windows that is providing the place with natural lighting. Vinyls are spread out, decorating the feature wall, giving the place a grungy, indie feel. There are series of shelves that are compacted and piled with CDs. Music magazines and sheet music are scattered unceremoniously over the large metal bench. Other objects that stand out are the framed poster of Yamato's old band, a cactus and a coffee maker.

A melodic female voice drifts smoothly in the air. I can't help but feel enchanted by how beautiful the person singing sounded.

I duck after Taichi into the first room on the right.

Multiple panels of switches, knobs and lights greet me. In front of the array, a man sits on his chair, in control of the gadgets. Although the man has not turned around, the familiar blond hair is a give away. Behind the panels, there is a transparent glass that showcases the recording room. And, inside the recording room, I can see a young woman singing into the microphone.

Yamato doesn't greet us, focusing on vocalist until she sings the very last note.

"We'll try recording it again tomorrow, Miho."

The vocalist gives a curt bow before leaving the recording room.

Yamato draws out a long sigh, folding one leg over the other and he shakes his head. His head is bent downwards as he gazes at some sheet music, and it's only when Taichi taps him on the shoulder that Yamato notices that we've been behind him all along

"At least give me notice when you come," Yamato snaps to disguise that he had momentarily freaked out by our intrusion.

"What was wrong with her?" Taichi asks. "Miho sings well."

I add my opinion, "I thought she was good too."

"She _is_ good," Yamato agrees. Yet, he continues to critique, "I just don't know if she's got the right voice for the song. She doesn't have the emotion for it. Maybe she's not experienced enough for the lyrics? She's getting the pitch and melody perfect, but she's oversinging that I feel like it's a bit too much for this composition."

" _Oversinging_?" Taichi exclaims, incredulously. "You can over sing?"

I shrug. "Don't ask me. I'm not the musician."

"You're being a perfectionist as per usual, Yama baby." Taichi snickers.

Yamato scolds, "And you're being an annoying prick as per usual too. Get out, Yagami."

"But you enjoy my company."

"It's not needed. Can't you see that I'm working?" Yamato replies rhetorically.

"No. I don't think this even qualifies as working. All you're doing is playing with these switches and knobs." Taichi says. He plays with one of the knobs and a high-pitch screech fills the air. Taichi covers his ears, looking at us in a rather childish manner. " _Ouch._ "

"And stop playing with everything!" Yamato barks at him.

"Everything looks so pretty and sparkly though."

Yamato kicks Taichi, that he almost stumbles onto the ground.

"First Sora, and now you! Do you want to kill me?" Taichi sticks out his tongue.

"Possibly," Yamato spouts back. I smirk at his reply. "If it's your death wish, I happily will."

I pipe in, "And I'll support his cause too."

"Ganging up on me. Real cool, guys," Taichi snaps. He doesn't continue speaking, but instead dives for Yamato's phone. Seconds later he's dialling a number, muttering a bunch of orders to the receiver. "Yes please. Charge it to Mr. Ishida. Thanks."

Taichi's placed an order for Chinese food. I giggle. I have to say, Yamato's lost this round.

I glimpse Yamato pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks _so_ close to lashing out on Taichi. If Taichi had pulled that that stunt on me, I would have given it to him. I don't know how Yamato copes with him. Even I don't have the patience for Taichi when he gets like this. I feel slightly guilty that we've raided Yamato's studio while he's working and, to top it all off, we're even making him pay for our lunch.

"Nice place you got here, Ishida," I compliment. I had been meaning to tell him that ever since Taichi and I had stepped into the warehouse. It is stunning, after all.

Yamato laughs. "I hope it is. I spent most of my savings from the band on it. Though, at times, I do think that I should have spent it elsewhere."

"Like a holiday?" I suspect.

"Let's just say I'm not as adventurous as you, Takenouchi. I don't particularly like exploring other countries that I don't know much of."

"You should try it some day. You don't know if you don't try it out."

Yamato mutters. "I'll think about it."

"That's why musos are weird," Taichi confirms. "Instead of getting rich or doing something smart with the money, they still want to be in the creative industry and still are faced with the likelihood of getting bankrupt."

"Gee, thanks for your support," Yamato responds sarcastically.

Taichi goes on, "I still don't understand why you chose to make your own record label and become a composer."

"My choice. Deal with it."

"Still, I think that-uh-oh...hello? Yagami speaking."

Yamato shares a look with me when we watch Taichi transform, in a split second, from being immature to sensible. We both know, that even on Taichi's day off, whenever he speaks like this it means that work is asking him the favour of doing over-time.

"Fukuoka?" Taichi says. " _Tonight_? A 5pm flight? If it's urgent, of course I'll be there. No worries."

My hands are on my hips as we continue listening to Taichi's phone call. When he hangs up, I'm already spurting out words at anger at him.

"TAICHI! Didn't you listen to what I said at the soccer field?"

He looks at me ruefully. "I'm going to a different prefecture for two days maximum, not overseas. I don't think this counts."

"That's not good enough!" I exclaim, "You said you'd go to Mimi's parent's house tomorrow night!"

Yamato nods. "She does have a point there."

"It'll have to wait," Taichi frowns. He pulls his hoodie back on, putting an arm around the soccer ball and resting it on his waist. "I guess I'll have to skip on the Chinese because I've got some last minute packing to do."

I cry out after him, "TAI!"

The door shuts.

I let out a strangled sigh and glance at Yamato, who is also at a loss of words. _Poor Yamato_. Taichi forcefully comes storming into his studio to interrupt Yamato's work, and the minute Taichi makes his presence known, he decides to leave.

And now he's stuck with me. This is awkward...

"Perhaps I should go too."

Yamato chuckles. "Stay. Taichi's already ordered lunch that's enough to feed a starving village. Anyway, I could do with a break. If you guys hadn't had marched in, I would have been helping myself to instant noodles."

"Mimi will hate you if she hears that," I say. "It's bad for you. Instant noodles isn't a meal. If she hears that, she'll make sure Taichi delivers you her home-cooked meals every day."

"I don't think instant noodles is that bad. It's all about balance. That's what you've got to take into consideration," Yamato smirks. "Too much of something is never good, which is why you need to even it out. One day you smoke, the next day you drink and the day after that you can get laid. Then you press repeat."

I arch an eyebrow. "That's the worst explanation ever."

But I'm amused by how ridiculous he is.

Yamato pulls out another chair for me to take a seat on. As we wait for our lunch to arrive, Yamato fiddles around with the recorded background music to the song the vocalist had been singing earlier. Seeing Yamato so focused is interesting. And, to be honest, I'm pretty sure he's even forgotten that I'm here. I know it's nothing personal and I probably should let him work since he is meant to be working.

I shrug, leaning back on the chair. I flip out my phone and vigorously type a message to the person who had recently abandoned us.

.

 _Please don't forget to text Mimi and tell her your whereabouts_

 _Roger_

 _Roger? I'm not Roger, Yagami_

 _It's an American joke._

 _Not funny. Anyway, have a safe trip!_

 _And you have a great time with Yamato. ;)_

 _Piss off, Tai_

 _;)_

 _._

Putting my phone back into my pocket, I don't bother to reply to the last taunting emoji that Taichi's sent me. If I do, I know Taichi's going to keep messaging me back with even more irritating texts because, I swear, it's his nature to be exasperating.

I hear a guitar. Lifting my head, I see that it's Yamato's got the instrument on his lap and is strumming a sequence of chords. He leans over his work station, while pencilling in the notes he had played onto the sheet music. Yamato then progresses to strumming another chord, then another, until he repeats two particular chords back and forth, obviously trying to pick which chord suits the melody more.

"The second one," I advise.

Yamato gazes at me, suddenly remembering that I'm here. He regains his composure and simply nods. I smirk to myself.

I have to admit, years ago, I had stereotyped Yamato as the guy who got lucky.

I didn't think much of his band, nor did I listen to his music. Perhaps I had it always in my mind that Yamato's band was only popular based on their appearances (and thanks to Mimi's constant confirmation because she'd rave on and on how she thought the drummer was quite the looker), that I never thought that maybe they might have had actual talent.

It was very narrow minded of me, but do you blame me for being judgemental? Mimi's taste for music is usually bad anyway.

Now I can see that Yamato is _actually_ good at what he's doing and he's working hard to produce the music he wants.

"I think the A Minor sounds better too," Yamato agrees. He catches my gaze, waiting for more of my input, but I don't say anything else. "Do you play?"

I laugh. "Hardly. I can't play any music to save my life. The most I've done is sing in the school choir."

"Well, that counts as something." His lips curl upwards. "All the fascinating."

"No way in hell," I flinch, thinking back to my high school years. "I was tone deaf. They had to pull me out of it. Well, they talked me into leaving the club, which was why I joined the soccer team instead. I made my teacher's ears bleed, apparently."

Yamato's guffaws, but instantly (and thankfully) stops when there's a knock on the door.

The receptionist has brought in the ordered Chinese food.

Yamato disappears out of the room and seconds later returns with a table. I place the food on top of it, helping Yamato by taking the other side of the table and placing it into the centre of the room. We drag our seats towards the table and we take off all the lids to the containers, revealing steaming fried rice, black bean beef stir fry, combination noodles and honey chicken.

We dig in and I feel savour all the flavours in my mouth. There's always something heavenly about unhealthy food.

Mid meal, Yamato's phone vibrates. He glances at me, and I motion for him to answer it.

" _Jun_?"

My ears perk up. It's not like I'm doing it intentionally, but I do remember that this is the same person he had spoken to the other night when we had been babysitting. She's the woman that he couldn't give me a straight answer about.

I give a sly smile, eying him as his cheeks turn a light pink because he can feel me watching him.

"Tonight. Yes," he closes his eyes. "Bye."

When he hangs up, I let out a low whistle. "Booty call?"

" _Sora_ ," Yamato warns me, but he's chuckling.

"So...?"

"Maybe."

I cheekily wink. "Sure. I'm not judging you. At least you can get laid with someone."

Yamato spits out a mouthful of green tea, glimpsing me in awe. "Did you actually just say that?"

"No." I don't even know what's come over me to say it, but it's not like I'm telling a secret. It's darn obvious.

"You almost sound jealous," he bites back.

"Of what? _You_?" I ask him, rolling my eyes. "I'm more jealous that you've got somebody for booty calls. It's better than being in a relationship. Things get complicated when you commit."

"Ah, somebody who finally gets me," Yamato gives an impish grin. "Now I see why everybody loves you, Sora. You really have no filter at times."

"Blame it on Mimi," I grumble.

After my last bite, I help Yamato clear up the table and dispense everything into the bin.

"Thanks for the meal."

"Thank Taichi since he's the one who ordered it all."

"You paid," I point out.

Yamato admits, "Ah...that is true."

"Well, see you?" I nod. I take my bag and give him a wave.

He grins, placing both hands into his pockets as he sees me off. We walk past the reception and just as we're about to head out the door, I hear Yamato call after me. "I'm jealous of your lifestyle too."

"What?" I pivot back on my heels.

"You're independent." Yamato continues, "You're not afraid of being you and you do whatever you please."

"Doesn't mean I'm getting laid though," I say, disdainful. I can't believe how honest I'm being with him, and you know what? I don't really care...

Yamato chuckles, taking my comment with stride. "But you're doing everything else right."

I tilt my head, surveying him as he leans against the door. I want to tell him that I'm not even sure _if_ I'm doing everything right, but I shrug it off and give him a wide smile.

"Thanks."

* * *

 **(a/n)** I always wanted to add Yamato's studio in. So here it is...and, yeah, more Sorato interaction. Michi is ongoing too. I don't know what else to say? Yes, the usual. Thanks for reading and reviewing! :)

And I've made a new tumblr account. ( patamon - ears . tumblr . com ) Have a good week!


	8. chapter eight: get lucky or get lost

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter eight

 **g** et **l** ucky **o** r **g** et **l** ost

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At times like these, I really wish that I _did_ have a boyfriend.

Thanks to none of my friends being free, I've decided to attend the function on my own. It was a struggle to leave home, but I'm here even if I was deliberately an hour late.

If Koushiro hadn't been a close friend of mine, I would have easily declined the invitation. However, tonight is a special night for him. I've always known him to be a profound genius, but tonight further emphasises how brilliant this guy truly is.

This party is to celebrate the launch of a medical fingerprint system that Koushiro has created. Starting from tomorrow, each hospital room in Tokyo will be installed with a bedside monitor, that will be utilised to automatically access the patient's latest medical records, pathology and imaging results. It's _literally_ technology at your fingertips.

A lot of effort has been put in on Koushiro's part. The project has lasted for years, and to finally see it live in action is plausible.

"I'm so happy for you, Kou," I congratulate him, giving him a tight hug.

Even dressed in his suit, Koushiro looks cute. For one, he's tidily brushed his hair back. His usual wrinkled shirt, is crease free and his shoes are _actually_ polished. This is commendable for him because he never is the type of person to spend time on his appearance. Work has always been Koushiro's priority and whenever he gets immersed in an assignment he's so focused, that I wonder if even has time to blink.

Koushiro proudly simpers back. "I couldn't have done it if it hadn't been for you encouraging me, Sor. Thank you for coming. It means a lot to me. People gave me hell about thinking up this crazy idea, but you never did."

Didn't I tell you that he's cute?

"Aw, you don't have to flatter me. I was just being a friend." I grin.

Koushiro replies, "I really mean it, Sora."

I jokingly nudge him on the shoulder. "Just pay me when you're rich."

He smirks. "Will take note."

"Izumi-san, the system is absolutely impeccable _!"_ A woman gushes. Behind the woman, another man in a grey suit wanders towards us. "Like you said, you're right about it being _prodigious_. Well done!"

Koushiro shoots me an apologetic look, but I encourage him to continue talking to the couple. I smile, taking a step back to allow the other guests to converse with the host.

Upon seeing that my glass is empty, I carefully place it onto the nearest table. I hail for the caterer who is skilfully balancing two trays of champagne, but manages to pass me another glass. I raise my glass at the young man in gratitude before downing a few sips.

I'm alone again. Sighing, I retrace everybody's excuses in my head.

Takeru and Hikari had caught the flu from their daughter, rendering them implicitly helpless and bedridden. Not so surprisingly, Taichi's work trip in Fukuoka stretched out to be a week long because he had to migrate further down to Nagasaki. Mimi couldn't get out of her evening cooking class. Iori was studying for his college exam, Willis is on a date, while Daisuke and Ken have a mutual friend's bucks night.

I've intentionally left Miyako and Jyou out of the excuses because they _are_ here. The only thing is that the couple are too preoccupied socialising with other medical practitioners, that they haven't realised that they had left me by myself. The two of them are comfortable here because they suit this medical environment, since Miyako's a nurse and Jyou's a surgeon. I, on the other hand, do not know _anything_ medical which makes me instinctively the outcast.

All I want to do is be home in my pyjamas, eating from a tub of vanilla ice-cream and watching the latest Kimura Takuya drama. I'm a bit old fashioned like that, but _damn_ Takuya looks good for his age and it doesn't help that I'm a sucker for romance.

I glance at my watch, frowning. I had committed to myself that I stick around for another half hour, but I don't know what else to do. I've already trialled the fingerprint system out more than once, eaten most of the finger food (after stuffing myself with half a dozen of quiches, the server has stopped offering me anything else), and I'm already up to my fourth glass of champagne.

"Finished harassing the caterer?"

I raise an eyebrow, studying the stranger. "Define harassing?"

"Forgive my intrusion, but I thought that you could use with some company asides from those many glasses you've drained."

"The caterers love me. I'm keeping them on their feet." I feign a light giggle, playing along with the shameless flirting. " _Mr_ …"

"-Wataru. Sakamoto Wataru. I'm the CEO to Oikawa Medical. _Yoroshiku,_ " he bows, smirking. "And your name, sweetheart?"

"Takenouchi Sora." I curtsy back mockingly.

Stranger or not, there is something remotely familiar about this man. He's quite handsome. I'd describe him as tall, dark, but seemingly _not_ so mysterious. From the corner of my eye, I've been noticing him sneak glimpses at my direction all evening. Yet, I've also seen him glancing lustfully at other women too. Therefore, his mistaken smoothness depicts nothing mysterious about him at all. In other words, he's a bit too smug for my liking. If he wants a root, he's not getting it from me.

"You work in the medical industry?"

"No," I admit. "I work in retail."

"Clothing?" His eyebrows furrow.

 _Great_. Now he thinks I'm easy because my qualification isn't up to his high standards. He's pretty much saying that I should abandon my job and fling myself onto the next man available so that I can wed him, cook home meals and care for the children.

"Jewellery," I correct. I frown, imagining his brain ticking as he judges me.

Does he think I'm _that_ desperate?

"That's a shame. Somebody like you shouldn't be selling jewellery, but wearing them. You're too gorgeous to do something silly like that." He folds his arms together and beams at me with his pearly whites.

I try not to cringe, flashing him a tight smile back. Something _silly_? Wataru's lucky that we're not outside, and not at this formal engagement, because I would have decked him already. Besides, it's kind of hard to inflict pain when I can hardly move in this dress. Anyway, I don't want to make a fool out of him, especially not on Koushiro's night.

The conversation ends up being very boring and predictable from there on. He tried to get me another drink, but I had refused. He then even had the balls to allude that we disappear into one of the empty rooms.

When he began to stroke my thigh, that was when I finally called it quits.

"I'm going to the toilet," I lie through my clenched teeth, pushing his hand off me.

Wataru gives a lazy suggestive smile, hand almost grabbing at the small of my back, "We can go together?"

Swatting him away, I seethe, " _No_."

I stomp onto his foot with my heel and twist in, ensuring to ram the heel in hope that the force will be enough force to impale him. Luckily, the ass is saved by his leather shoes.

He gawks at me as I storm off. "You _bitch_!"

I throw my shoulders back, striding forwards without looking back. However, I feel jittery and still vexed, and the liquor isn't doing me a favour either.

As I'm about to duck out the door, a voice follows me.

"Takenouchi, you sure handled that well. He looks pleasant. Why didn't you give him a chance?"

I want to kick myself.

Of all the people, it has to be Yamato Ishida who is leaning against the wall right next to the door. I don't know how long he's been there, but I know he's witnessed my encounter with Wataru from the amused expression on his face.

"Not interested in him," I grumble. "He's a sleaze. Are you a sadist? Yamato, you could have been a good friend and pulled me out of that one."

Yamato shrugs. He grabs two glasses from a server who walks past us, keeping one and handing me the other. "I've always had the impression that you don't need a knight in shining armour to rescue you."

"True," I sigh, looking into my glass of bubbling champagne. "Though, I could have used with extra help."

"Hey," Yamato says. "I thought I'd give you a chance with him. He's rich, after all. Did you see his customised cufflinks? He had his name engraved on them in kanji. Who spends their money on something senseless like that?"

"Now that's more than observing us, Yamato." I sardonically point out, "That's practically stalking."

Yamato chuckles. "So what happened? You were getting along well then you almost amputated his foot! One minute I thought you were going to leave the function together, the next I see you stabbing him with your heel! _Why?_ "

"He's too conceited. Too into himself," I list him my reasons. "He's not bad on the eyes, but when he started talking about how I should leave my job, how traveling is a waste of money and how he's all this and all that, I couldn't wait to leave. And he even told me this lame geekish joke about HTML coding to get me to sleep with him."

Yamato's lips curve upwards in curiousity. "Is that possible? How… _do_ I even want to know?"

I deadpan, "He proposed that we get all bracket ' _ **b**_ ' closed bracket in one of the rooms and make my voice go all bracket ' _ **i**_ ' closed bracket . Let's just say that minuscule interest I had for him rapidly diminished."

Yamato's openly guffawing now.

"I must have committed adultery in my past life or done something evil to endure that. I was thinking, _God, what did I do to deserve this?_ "

"Now don't get all biblical on me," Yamato cuts in.

"Why would I? If I angled a bible at your direction, it will burn metres before it would reach you because you're shrouded head to foot in sin," I retort.

"I'd prefer shrouded in mystery, but I'll take shrouded in sin instead." He tells me and smirks. "Makes me feel like a bad boy."

"Your mother wouldn't like that."

"Ah, she already knows I'm the devil's incarnate. Never fails to remind me of how much of a sinner I am and how I should grow up already." He's joking around, but what he's saying about his mother seems cynical and real. "Too bad I was never the mother's boy."

"Takeru was?"

"Yes, the darn suck up," Yamato answers. "I have to say though, that guy was really trying to get up your skirt. The other day you were yapping on about getting laid, and here the best opportunity comes up, with him basically _pleading_ you for sex, yet you reject. From how I see it, you could have given him a chance, Sora."

"Even I have standards," I snort.

If I was talking to another person about this vague and somewhat forbidden subject, I would be not be persevering in the conversation. However, speaking to Yamato is fine. Whereas, if it were Taichi, I knew the topic would turn into a headache. Yamato does whatever he likes and is still single and because he's the way he is, I feel like he isn't judging me.

"I may not be gay, but he was not bad looking."

"No, really," I laugh. "I think I wasn't attracted to him because, asides from the seediness, I finally realised that he kinda reminded me of a guy I used to go out with."

Yamato sniggers into his glass. "Do you have many of them, anyway?"

"What? Exes?" I question, stepping closer to the table where the caterer had placed a tray of fresh tomato bruschetta slices. I munch onto one of the pieces, and notice that Yamato's still expecting a reply from me. "Why should I tell you, Yamato? I thought this is unspoken between us since you're not telling me about your thing with that scarlet lady of yours."

"Jun?" Yamato assumes, despite him already knowing who I'm referring to. "I wouldn't really call it a thing. We're not really anything. The only real relationship I had was when I was in high school, before the band fame. It's hard to juggle a relationship when you're touring."

"You seem like you've been juggling Jun for some time."

He glares at me, but I shrug.

"I've answered my part. How about you? Have you dated much?"

"Dates, yes. But relationships, I guess I've had an average amount," I respond, thoughtfully.

"Two per year?" Yamato teases.

I give him a friendly shove. "I don't sift through the male population _that_ easily, Ishida!"

It's a good thing Yamato's here. After the semi-traumatising encounter with Wataru, hanging out with him has lifted my mood. If he hadn't been here, I would have left the function.

I don't know why I hadn't thought that Yamato would be here. To this day I still forget that his friends are my friends and considering we have missed each other on numerous basises, it's only natural that I would have surmised that he wouldn't attend tonight. If I had known earlier, we could have gone to the event together.

"Call me out for stereotyping, but I didn't think a rockstar like yourself would be close to Koushiro," I comment.

I know Koushiro is friends with Yamato, but I hadn't thought he was that close to come to the function by himself.

"Well, he _is_ my good friend." Yamato explains, "Taichi got close to him first at university, then he eventually had us meet up. Since Taichi's already insane, adding Koushiro to our group of guy friends was a nice touch because he's the mature one. How many times has he cared for us when we were off our faces, or made up a smart excuse to get us out from being taken in by the cops-"

"Sounds like you boys had wild nights. It's funny picturing him with you though. You would have corrupted him. I pity him for having to put up with you guys," I laugh. "It makes sense though."

"Yeah," Yamato chuckled. "On the other hand, Taichi and I are quite protective of him. One time, Taichi even threw a punch at a student for him. Koushiro had given a copy of his essay to help this student out, but he ended up plagiarising him. I was so furious when I heard, that I even went to the extent of egging that student's car."

"Real mature," I shake my head. "Though, it serves that ass right. Even though you and Taichi did the wrong thing, it was also the right thing to do. Who knows, if I had found out about that, I might have done worse."

"I believe you. I won't take you for granted after I had seen you drill your heel into that guy's foot," Yamato replies, still amused. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that Koushiro is too innocent and nice, that it's scary, yet rewarding, that he's made it this far. However, if any of these business folk take advantage of him, I might do something that is-"

"Is that why you're here?" My eyes widen.

I laugh and Yamato awkwardly glances away from me. Yamato isn't joking about being protective over Koushiro.

"Partly," Yamato agrees. "Like you, Takeru can look after himself. But Koushiro...he's a different story."

"He is a special one." I glance at Koushiro who is now taking a pretty blond to the bar. "Innocent as he seems, Yamato, it looks like Koushiro is scoring tonight. He might get married before us."

I take another piece of bruschetta, biting into it.

"You know?" Yamato says, "I always thought that you were like Koushiro. The girls made it sound out that you're the most mature one out of them."

"It might be because I'm technically the oldest?" I presume. I fold my arms, but find that I'm starting to lose my balance so I lean back against the table to support myself.

Yamato disagrees, "I think it's because you look out for them."

"Really?" I'm not sure where Yamato's coming up with this conclusion, so I question him back. "I do?"

"From what the rumours tell me...you do."

"If by yelling out at everybody to get their act together means something, then yes, perhaps I am the mature one. I take credit for that," I murmur. I don't know whether I should be offended that the girls have titled me as the mature one. Isn't being the oldest more than enough?

I continue, "Especially if you're contrasting me to Mimi, then I can say I'm _definitely_ more mature than she is. Despite it all, I think Takeru and Hikari are different though, since they got married first. They're a different form of maturity that I don't think I will ever achieve."

"True," Yamato chuckles. "My brother was always the lucky one."

"You are too," I point out. "I mean, you became a rockstar for goodness sake!"

He sighs, taking a sip of the bubble-less champagne. "But maybe I was wrong? Sometimes I think of the _what ifs_ , like how would it be like if I hadn't made it with the band and tried something else…"

"But you don't regret it, do you?"

"No."

I hand him my unfinished piece of bruschetta, opting to finish off my champagne. "Then don't complain."

"Yes, mother." Yamato devours the piece, before grabbing another from the food tray. He changes the subject, "Have you been trying to convince Taichi to come back?"

I catch on, "Countless of times. He's being a pain. Have you tried?"

"No success either. He's being a stubborn idiot," Yamato mutters. "Any bet Mimi selectively _chose_ to work on a Saturday night. I give up on them."

"Oh, you know how they both are," I say. " _Impossible_."

He nods and I let out another sigh. The caterer walks past and I steal another glass from the tray. Instead of drinking it, I place the cold beverage against my face and savour the sensation.

Yamato studies me, amused. "What are you doing?"

"Suppressing the Asian glow." I roll the glass to my other cheek. I probably look as red as those tomato squares on Yamato's bruschetta piece.

He smirks and motions at the glass in my hand. "How many?"

I reply, remorse apparent in my voice as I'm feeling that I'm gradually getting spacey. "After my eighth, I think I may have lost count…"

"Didn't expect you to go all hardcore, Takenouchi."

"I blame you." Rolling my eyes, I mumble, "Before you arrived I had nobody else but the champagne to keep me company. Anyway, how can you say 'no' to free booze?"

"When you've clearly had enough," Yamato answers. He takes the glass that I'm almost about to spill and finishes it himself.

I pout, trying to subtly take another glass from a caterer that's passing by, but Yamato lightly swipes my hand away from the tray. I slouch, defeated. "Ishida, what else is there to do here?"

Yamato shrugs. It's then that I take in what he's wearing and I can't help but giggle.

"What?"

"And I thought I was out of place," I motion at how he's attired in his signature leather jacket and dark jeans. It almost seems like it's uniform to him. Nevertheless, he still looks sharp and striking as ever. I'm sure that if somebody dressed him in a poncho or a rainbow scarf, Yamato would still look good. "Didn't you bother to check out the dress code?"

"Not really. Suits are straining to wear, and don't get me started on matching them with ties. It feels like you're putting a noose around your neck. They're suffocating," Yamato shudders at the thought. "One of the reasons why I didn't want to become an office man. If I surrendered my lifestyle to being an ordinary office man, I wouldn't have the freedom to wear whatever I like."

I snort. "Aren't you the rebel."

Yamato's about to take another piece of bruschetta, but the caterer sniffs at us and removes the tray from our reach. "Isn't that rude?"

"I think they found our master plan out," I laugh. "That know we're only here for the goods."

"So now that the goods are gone, how about we retreat?" Yamato eyes Koushiro from across the venue. "I'm sure he won't mind. We've made an appearance and have been here long enough. He's preoccupied anyway."

"Are you suggesting we ditch this place?" The idea sounds good. It's exhausting standing around in these heels. The venue has no seats so my feet and calves are aching like hell.

"Why not?" Yamato says, "You in?"

" _Definitely,_ " I sigh. "I want to go home."

We bid our farewells to Koushiro and once we're out of the function room, I'm clutching onto the railing as I take one step at a time down the flight of stairs. It's not that I'm a terrible walker when in heels, but what's triggering my anxiousness is falling down the stairs. It doesn't help that everything around me seems to be swirling. I've been doing well, but now I can feel the liquor catching up, and boy can I feel it taking effect on me. This is mainly my own fault for not having anything adequate to eat prior to getting here and smartly not drinking moderately at all.

Without uttering a word, Yamato steadily holds onto my right arm and helps me down. When we reach the ground level, I shoot him a grateful look and he nods.

"Please don't tell me you're thinking of taking the train home."

"No, I'm not stupid," I reply. "The taxi."

"You probably should sober up first. I'm certain the taxi driver wouldn't appreciate it if you vomited inside it."

"I should be fine," I give a false smile, resting my hand onto the wall.

He sniggers. " _Right.._."

Yamato takes hold of my arm again. Before I can process what's going on, we're walking out of the building and he's taking me the opposite way from the taxi rank. I don't think much of it because I'm struggling to keep of composure of _trying_ to look 'not drunk'. Soon enough, I notice that the area we're in doesn't look familiar and that's when I finally question him.

"Where are we going?"

"My place," Yamato responds. He nudges me into an apartment complex and before I want to back out of the elevator he lightly forces me inside it. "Don't worry, Takenouchi, I'm not going to murder you."

I protest, "But-"

"Probably safer if you sober up first. Thought it would be ideal for you rest it out prior to you going home by yourself. You're just in luck that I live close by to the venue."

"You don't have to…"

"It's not safe to leave a drunk girl by herself." Yamato mutters, "Anyway, our friends wouldn't have liked it if I left you by yourself in this state."

"I'm not drunk," I bristle.

He repeats the same word he has used earlier, " _Right…_ "

"Why don't you believe me?" I push him. Yamato looks at me amused. The elevator opens and as he assists me out of it, I see a couple walk past us. They girl looks _way_ younger than the old man. Heck, the girl doesn't even look legal. I slur out, "YOU!"

The couple turns to me in shock. Yamato's eyes widen as I keep yelling.

"I'M GOING TO REPORT YOU TO THE AUTHORITIES!" I scream out.

Yamato clamps a hand over my mouth and attempts to get me to keep walking. "You're making a scene."

I lick his hand, which causes him to immediately retract his hand back. Yamato gives me a disgusted look, but I ignore him and crane my neck back at the couple, stuttering, "Get away from him, you little girl!"

She replies, "Mind your own business, old lady!"

I get away from Yamato's grasp, ready to march back to the pair. As I furiously stomp over, the elevator door closes and I almost fall on my ass. It's all thanks to Yamato's arm dipping down and holding my waist just before I almost crash onto the floor.

"And you're not drunk," Yamato says.

"I'm not." I breathe out. "You're being unjust."

"You stink, Takenouchi."

I give him a lazy smile. "And you smell good, Ishida."

Yamato's chuckling. He helps me back onto my feet and ushers me down the hallway of apartments and into his own.

Slipping off my heels, I run onto the cool, wooden surface and glance into every room along the way. Each room isn't what I'm hunting for. First was Yamato's bedroom, then a music room, then a spare room and then I let out a groan.

"Takenouchi," Yamato mutters. "I could always offer you a house tour, but since you're already peeping into every room-"

I barely croak out, "Toilet."

"Here," Yamato says. He opens a door and I run past him, slamming the door behind me.

In seconds I'm keeling over the toilet bowl, spewing into it like there's no tomorrow. My eyes are watery and I feel the acidic taste in the back of my throat. The sensation makes me regurgitate again.

"You alright in there, Sora?"

"Fine!" I squeak out, dabbing my mouth with a bunch of toilet paper before tossing it inside the bowl and giving the toilet a flush.

As I wash my hands, I catch my reflection and laugh at myself. I look like a train wreck. My hair is all over the place, mascara and wine-red lipstick smudged and one of the straps has fallen off my shoulder. I readjust the strap, wipe the smeared lipstick off and I fix my hair up. At least I look slightly presentable now. The throwing up has drained me and everything is spinning.

"God, you're an idiot," I say to myself, grasping onto the basin to steady myself. I take a couple deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling until I feel a bit better. "You really messed yourself up this time."

Gathering my courage and the little dignity I had left, I come out of the bathroom and immediately see the expression on Yamato's face that makes me want to hide back inside the bathroom.

Have I actually _just_ vomited in Yamato's apartment?

The look on his face is evident that he's not going to forget this. I swear, he's going to use this against me some time in the future, even if it's in court or-

He offers, "Water?"

"Yeah, thanks," I murmur, taking the glass of water for me. My common sense is slowly coming back, and because of this the more humiliated I feel. I pessimistically lament, "Why didn't you stop me?"

"You were _unstoppable_."

I frown, diving onto his couch. Playing verbal gymnastic with Yamato isn't what I want to do right now. I'm too exhausted and feeling extra gross to care about anything. I close my eyes, resting back onto a pile of cushions and begin to firmly massage my temples in an attempt to get rid of my newfound migraine.

The TV switches on and all I hear is a series of loud, aggravating gunshots. It must be some war or action movie, and it's something my not yet sober mind can tolerate at the moment.

Yamato soon crashes next to me. Despite feeling sick in the stomach, I can smell the scent of butter.

Not even bothering to open my eyes, I weakly speak up, "You have an unhealthy obsession with popcorn."

"At least it's not bears," he retorts.

I pull out one cushion behind me, opening one eye as I aim it at him. The cushion luckily hits the top of his head. If it hadn't hit Yamato's head, it would have plummeted into the bowl of popcorn and I _know_ that Yamato would forgive me for that.

"Popcorn is always good when you're witnessing chaos."

"The movie's boring," I say, even though I don't know what it is about.

He chuckles. "You're the chaos."

I laugh with him.

"So what are we doing?" I finally open my eyes, raising my legs onto the couch for comfort measures. "Are we Netflixing and Chilling?"

"Wow, I feel honoured." Yamato remarks, sarcastically, "To think that somebody, like you, would consider me to be a worthy candidate. I meet your standards, huh?"

"Tall, blond and blue eyes?" I drawl back. "I'd say that ticks all the boxes. You'll do."

He shuffles closer to me, turning his body to face me completely. "Now you're just wanting me for my looks. Isn't that insulting?"

"A compliment on the looks is a good thing." I continue, "Especially if it's just for a one night thing."

Me and my _big_ mouth. I try to pretend that I didn't say anything, putting an act on like nothing dumb has slipped out of my mouth, but Yamato's knees are already hitting up against my thigh.

He's inches away from my face and it's then that I realise, that Yamato's on the same boat as I am, only he surpasses me at concealing his drunken stupor. The giveaway is his breath. Asides from the champagne, he also smells like a mix of Vodka and rum. He might have even had more than me!

My heart is beating faster as I look at his lips. I wonder how they'd taste like against mine…

He's leaning in closer and whispers roughly into me, "I'm single and you're single…"

Yamato's stating the obvious. And, I'm not denying it either. The same train of thoughts is running through my mind and as much as it feels dangerous, it's invigorating. Lust is mirrored in his deep, blue eyes and I feel my body tingling as I challenge him by placing my arms around his neck.

I dare to ask, "What's stopping us then?"

Yamato _is_ danger and things can get very sticky if we keep going at this rate and-

 _Damn it._

I groan, feeling him plant kisses on my neck. I push him back onto the couch, but he battles me and we soon swap positions. His body compresses over me and I'm unbuttoning his shirt when we hear somebody cough.

"Asides from Jun," Yamato groans. He gives a small grin at the newcomer. "Hey babe."

In an instant, he rolls off me and I let out a groan. I sit up, straightening my posture as I reach downwards to grab my bag. My face feels hot again and I'm beyond embarrassed with myself. I follow Yamato's gaze and study the woman.

Jun's pretty. She doesn't have the traditional beauty, but there's some aura she possesses that makes you want to take a second glance at her. Her dark hair is styled with a pixie-cut and she's in a ACDC shirt and tight, leather pants. She looks great even though her dress code is quite simple.

While I've been studying her, she has too. However, her gaze isn't livid, angry or repulsed after having witnessed Yamato and my little heated session. In fact, there's a glint of amusement in her eyes. I glimpse Yamato. He doesn't seem all that bothered by what's happened.

She gives a wry smirk, "You guys can keep going at it if you want. Perhaps I should join in?"

Did Jun just actually allude to a threesome? _What. The. Hell._ Yamato really knows how to pick his women-

"She's only joking, Sora," Yamato seems to have read my mind, scratching the back of his head. "You don't have to go."

"I was just leaving," I reply, frazzled. I don't know her well enough to joke around with her. And, even then, the fact that she's walked in on us in a compromising position is darn right horrifying.

With my head throbbing, I stagger out of the apartment by myself. As I wait by the elevators, I try to make sense of what's happened tonight. I retrace everything in my mind and my face scrunches up in mortification as I realise what I've done... _oh hell._

I'm definitely sober now. Remind me to never drink again.

* * *

 **(a/n)** Uh, yeah. This chapter turned out longer. To be honest, I've been quite surprised with the reviews. Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for reading this (odd) story!

p.s. pied piper (if you're reading this and because i can't pm back) thanks for the review! our writing styles are different. i personally prefer your style of writing because it's fun to read and I like the depth to your characters. thanks for popping by :)


	9. chapter nine: cold-hearted independence

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter nine

 **c** old- **h** earted **i** ndependence

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There hasn't been many customers coming in lately. I prefer it when it's busy because when it's quiet, the longer I am staring at the time, the harder it is waiting for my shift to end.

"So, about the date, have you thought about it?" Taeko says, knitting a white sweater as she sits on the stool besides me.

I blink. "What?"

"You know...the blind date?" She clarifies, "With my friend's son?"

" _Oh_." I realise what she means, but I don't want to acknowledge it all. I clean the the counter for the millionth time.

"So what do you think, Sora?" She's well aware I'm attempting to wriggle out of this.

Taeko has brought up this conversation more than once and I _have_ told her that I might be interested, after my parents had ambushed me. However, I intentionally failed to bring up the topic again, especially when my parents aren't pressuring or bringing it up again. I was hoping Taeko would let it fade away, but now that she's speaking of it I just want to dig up my own grave and hide in it.

Being set up has never been my thing, nor is online dating (I still get mad and want to hit Miyako whenever I think of the time she made an online _Tinder_ account and pretended she was me).

Is it naive that I prefer meeting people spontaneously?

Like at a cafe, or while waiting for the train, a bookstore, a different country, a shopping centre, a lake, a...alright, so maybe I have thought about almost every ideal romantic first meeting situations one too many times in my head.

Perhaps I'm just wishful thinking, but I can't help but think that these days everything lack the personal feel. Meeting anybody through social media or being set up on a date sounds the very least appealing option.

And let's pretend that one incident with Yamato never happened. Now that _is_ what you call 'awkward'. Thank Goodness I haven't seen him ever since. Hopefully I will never see him again. I had lasted years of not bumping into him, so maybe there's a chance that the next time we cross paths he'll be married to Jun and have five kids of his own. Yes, that sounds _very_ realistic.

"Have you even considered it?" She questions me.

"Not now," I finally reply. "I just don't feel like I'm ready."

 _Nor do I really want to…hell, I don't even want to be with a guy right now._

"You won't know until you try, my dear. You know, I met my husband through an arranged marriage, and we got along really well."

I give Taeko a tight smile. "What about I let you know in a couple of months, and if he's still single I'll think about it?"

My manager takes this as a sign to change the subject, answering me with a slight nod. However, she has that same stubborn look as my mother the 'I know what's right for you' look that is seemingly adamant in my seniors whenever they find out I don't have a boyfriend.

"Sora dear, there's something I have to tell you."

I look up from the rose-gold earring display, observing the old lady. I'm disconcerted by Taeko's sombre tone in her voice when she had spoken. In fact, I've never heard her speak this way.

She bites her bottom lip, "I think you should deliberate on finding a new job…"

"A new job?" My heart skips beat. "What are you trying to say, Taeko-san?"

"Not that I'm firing you, honey. It's just, I spoke to the bank and-" My manager is getting teary and I feel hesitant, almost not wanting to know. "-and, well, they think I should close the store. I don't have enough funds. The business hasn't been doing well. I can hold it off for a couple of months but-"

"We can't have that!" I cry out. "We can get more customers. I'll help you. We'll make this work!"

"It's a small business-"

"That's why this _is_ important! I've worked for big businesses countless of times before, and they are nothing compared to what you have to offer!" I exclaim. I can't believe this is happening. I won't let this happen! It's out of the question. If Taeko thinks she can shut this store down without fighting, I won't allow it. "This store has been a part of your family for generations. And even if it _is_ a small business, I've never had a manager like you. You're the best manager I've ever had!"

"Don't try to flatter me, Sora. I've already made my decision-"

I retaliate, "Well, it's not good enough!"

I'm being selfish. It's not like me to throw a tantrum or to lose my cool like this, but this little boutique jewellery store has been my second home. It's been one of the best work environments I've ever worked in and I do _not_ want to leave this place.

"Perhaps I should sell it to somebody? Rent it out? I don't know," the older woman muttered. "It would be great if I could pass it on to you, seeing I don't have children and all…"

"You know, very well enough, that I can't buy this from you. It's yours, nor do I have enough money for this store," I tell her firmly.

"I can see you transforming this store to something great. Didn't you say that you used to sew wedding dresses? How you worked side by side a famous designer in Spain? You're wasting your talent here, dear."

"Just because I have knack for being good at it doesn't mean I have to venture into that field of work!" I bristle. "Taeko-san, I'm _very_ happy here. Working here with you has been such a privilege and-"

"I'm old, Sora."

"But-"

"Please stop arguing with me."

Taeko is openly crying now, and I feel remorseful for pushing her to this extent. I shouldn't have been too strong about my opinion. Who am I to say something when it's Taeko's choice? She wouldn't have just come to this conclusion overnight. She would have thought through this carefully and I...I was acting quite brash.

" _Sorry_ ," I whisper, clearly ashamed of myself. I give her a hug, and I feel her trembling against me. "I'm sorry."

In that specific moment, my phone text alert goes off. I let out an inward groan to myself. I had idiotically left the sound on during work hours.

"You know I'm fine with you answering it." Taeko sniffs, letting go of me.

"It's not a phone call."

"You should check it though."

I sigh.

See what I mean? At any other work place, I would have gotten an instant dismissal for my unprofessionalism, but not according to Taeko's code of ethics. My manager is always too pleasant and nice and-

I frown at the text.

 _Emergency. I'm at my place. Get here now._

Taeko peeks over my shoulder and reads the text too and reads the stressed expression forming on my face. "Looks important. You should see what's that about. Isn't Mimi your best friend?"

"I shouldn't."

"Oh, Sora. You know I can handle this store myself. We haven't had a customer walk in for the past three hours." Taeko pushes me forward. "Go."

I guiltily glance behind me as I rush out of the store. Taeko flashes me a sincere smile and I give her a grateful nod. I owe it her. I really do.

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* * *

"You're not at work," I comment when I notice Miyako is wearing her scrubs. The expression on her face is peeved and before I ask her what's wrong, she's already responding back.

"Oh, yes. I _actually_ was, but I was worried about the welfare of my friend, who happens to be fine. Well, not fine...however, my boss wasn't too pleased when I begged to leave early since there, apparently, was an emergency," Miyako seethes. "Which, debatably, _isn't._ "

I take off my shoes and follow her down the hallway to the lounge. Hikari shoots me glance, rolling her eyes, as she puts a hand on Mimi's back who happens to be sobbing. Yes, Mimi - the drama queen - is sobbing.

If Miyako isn't all that concerned, then what could it possibly be this time?

Even I had walked out of the store during work hours, so there better be a good reason behind Mimi's emergency text. I'm still feeling horrible for leaving Taeko by herself after she had delivered me the news, so whatever Mimi has got to say _better_ be important.

Collapsing onto the other side of Mimi on the sofa, I crane my neck so that I'm at my best friend's level. Attempting to not lose my cool, and speaking to her in a steady tone, I ask, "What's happened, Meems?"

She blubbers out, "It's Taichi."

What else could be this drastic enough to make her drag all of us out of our schedules to see her?

 _Oh shit..._

"You broke up?" My eyes widen. It's the only thing that I can process through my head for her to react this way.

Mimi shakes her head. "We're having another fight."

"Ah, is that it?" I huff out, leaning back onto the sofa and placing one leg casually over the other.

I might have sounded insensitive for the remark, but what do you really expect me to say? I'm still exhausted from having to run from work to her apartment. And, to hear something like this, was not worth the sprint. Taichi and Mimi fighting is a regular thing that is usually resolved with them talking, then heavily making out afterwards. Us girls never have to intervene because Mimi does things however she wants, no matter what you tell her.

Through her tears, Mimi lifts up her head and glares at me. "Sora, he's really important to me! How can you be so selfish?"

Her words piss me off. All three of us girls had dropped all our things to go to her aide, and she calls me _selfish?!_ Are you _seriously_ kidding me?

"I'm sorry," I reply back with snark. My anger can't be contained anymore. "You're the one being completely being immature right now. Everything isn't always about you, Mimi. The world doesn't revolve around you! We were all busy and you-you _always_ fight with each other because you guys can't communicate properly and I'm stuck in the middle, always listening to you rant over stupid, trivial things!"

Hikari gasps at me and Miyako looks torn between laughing out loud and gaping.

I'm usually the subdued, calm one out of the group. I always try to think rationally with a non-judgmental mind, but right now I've lost it. Why is Mimi complaining when she has everything? Taichi loves her, her job is stable, her income is great, her family is pleasant...what else can she ask for? Everything's given to her on a silver platter and here, she is, complaining over one measly fight with Taichi. Are you _fucking_ kidding me?

"I need you to listen to me, to hear me out- but you're-you haven't been here lately. You're never here to listen to what's been going on and what I have to say, Sora!" Mimi screeches back.

" _Guys_ …" Miyako tries to interfere, but I'm not having any of it. I'm tired of this.

"I _always_ listen to you!" I snap. "Don't put this on me."

"You haven't been a good friend ever since your birthday and you've been shutting me out!" Mimi shouts, voice hitching louder with each word that comes out of her annoying mouth. "What's wrong with you? You've changed! I need you, and you're not here for me all-"

"And that's _so_ typical of you, Mimi!" I growl. "You only _need_ me when you want me. I was busy at work, and was discussing something very important with my manager, and then you tell me to come here ASAP so that I can hear you whine and throw a fit about Taichi? I'm so sick of this, Mimi! Get your shit _together_!"

Mimi quietly responds, "It's not like you even have a real job anyway."

Did she _really_ just say that? Hikari and Miyako look panicky and are sending me glances to calm down, but I can't. I _won't_. How can Mimi be such a-

" _Bitch_!" I cry out. "Stop being a darn bitch, Mimi!"

Mimi replies, stubbornly, "It's true though! Don't you agree Miyako and Hikari?"

"Please don't involve us," Miyako pleads. "We are _not_ taking sides here."

However, it doesn't stop Mimi from continuing to spout more cruel, biting words, "Sora doesn't have a real job. All she commits to is temporary things, and this even applies to things like her brief relationships."

My eyes flash icily at her. "Is that so?"

"She didn't mean that," Hikari tries to excuse for her.

Mimi is gazing away from me, but I know she means it. Everything she has said is what she really thinks and this frustrates me. I thought she understood me. I thought she knew I liked doing my own thing, that I didn't need a guy to rely on...that I.. _.does she even know me?_

"If you think you know everything about relationships, then why don't you just let Taichi know? You want to get married. You want to have a family with him," I furiously tell her, watching her face flinch as Hikari glances at me mouth wide open. She gestures for me to stop, but I don't.

"You don't understand Sora. It's hard."

"It's _not_ hard. Since you trust him more than us, why can't you just be blunt and clear about what you want, huh? Please tell me you've talked about this with him..."

Being stuck in the middle of two clueless and close friends is irritating. I'm over their endless game of pointless squabbling. It's not only affecting their lives, but the people around them too. And, you know what, I don't have time for this bullshit anymore!

"Well, have you? Have you told Taichi what you really want, Mimi?" I dare to ask. I let out a sigh when she doesn't respond. "Of course you haven't."

Mimi sits up, staring at me directly in the eye. "Sora, we're all not like you. You like things that are straight to the point, and you can be so darn heartless at times. You don't give any guy a chance. When good things happen to you, you walk away. You're scared of people influencing your choices. You rely on yourself the most, but sometimes you need somebody there for you. And, if you continue this, I guarantee that you will be by yourself for the rest of your life."

"She didn't mean that," Hikari repeats, again, covering up for Mimi's words. "We know how you are, Sora. You've always been independent, and that is a great attribute to have. In fact, you're the strongest out of all of us. You deal with everything yourself."

Mimi remarks, "Because she's like ice."

"Oh yeah, I'll put that in my compliment book along with being 'darn heartless' despite me leaving my job mid-day to check on you," I say bitterly. Although Mimi's saying things to purposely hurt me, somehow Hikari's reassurance has made me feel worse. "Mimi, I honestly am here for you, but right now you're making it really difficult to be in the same room as you. And it's not only you, it's Taichi as well. Why do you want our advice when you don't even listen?"

She bluntly says, "I wasn't asking for your advice."

"Then what _exactly_ do you want?"

"I just want you to be a supportive friend." Mimi sobs. "And right now you're being horrible-"

"Perhaps because I'm tired of it all," I breathe out, closing my eyes tightly and biting my tongue from saying anything else.

When I open my eyes again, I see Miyako and Hikari crowding around Mimi and comforting her as she begins to cry her eyes out. They know that she needs somebody there for her more than I do. It's a given since I _am_ the ice-queen. Mimi may be the drama queen, but apparently I'm the one that is composed of ice.

I stand up from the sofa. Yes, that's right.

Mimi's the one who needs people there all the time to make her feel better, and me? Well, apparently I don't need anyone and as Mimi said, I only rely on myself.

God, I really must be a heartless friend. I've really hurt her this time...

I'm walking out of Mimi's apartment and am not the least bit surprised that none of my friends are running after me. I've built this wall up around myself a long time ago. I'm meant to be the carefree, laid-back one - a person who can deal with everything by herself and is strong enough to cope with anything thrown at my direction. So this is expected.

Anyway, people are draining. _Everything_ is draining.

Through blurred vision, I somehow find myself back at my own home. I fall onto my bed, burying my face into the soft pillow and close my eyes tightly from allowing any tears to cascading down my cheeks. I fail, feeling the dampness on my skin and the taste of salt on my lips.

I feel shit, and depressed about the incident that had just unfolded. But, I don't regret saying the words I had. However, Mimi's remarks have gotten to me. They usually don't, but today it's different. She meant the words she had said.

That's what's bad about best friends, they know all your strengths and weaknesses, and this time she really had hurt me too.

Skimming through the list of contacts on my phone, I feel even more alone. For a second, I pause at Yamato's name. I shake my head, foolishly looking for another person. If I call him, I might seem like one of those many girls he has, who wants to get in his pants. He might think I'm forging a pity party because I want to get laid, seeing how desperate I acted the last time I saw him thank to the helping hand of liquor.

Giving up, I throw my phone onto the bedside table.

Every contact on my phone knows Mimi, or has some sort of association with her. I just want somebody to speak to; somebody, _for once,_ to console and tell me that I'm actually right.

Yes, I _am_ independent but sometimes even I need somebody to depend on.

All alone, I cry myself to sleep.

* * *

 **(a/n)** This chp is shorter than many, but it needed to be a standalone. I hope you enjoyed or disliked it :)

No Yamato in this chapter, but this needed to be written. This may sound out of character for Sora (then again, this story is pretty much OOC), but after a period of time - even the most patient person _can_ snap and I really wanted to portray that. And, somehow, no matter how Sora wants to admit it...she is at a semi-breaking point in her life. Everybody is moving on with their lives, and she's stuck in limbo - especially now that her boss has pretty much told her that she's closing down the company. Anyway, I'll stop ranting.

Thank you for reading, reviewing or following this story. Hoping you all the best for the New Year!

P.S.

(& since you guys don't have accounts...)

 **Liza:** Thanks for checking out this story (and Paparazzi too!) :)

 **Mahu:** It was fun writing Sora in the venue, especially somewhere where she felt out of place…therefore, it was fun bringing Yamato into the mix, if you know what I mean ;)


	10. chapter ten: on the same boat

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter ten

 **o** n **t** he **s** ame **b** oat

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An alert goes off on my phone. People within my radius send me displeased looks as I shamefully bow my head in apology. The fault is completely mine considering I'm in a enclosed space that is universally recognised to be of a quiet environment.

Flipping open my phone, I set it to silent before reading the message.

 _Where are you?_

It's not often I get a message from the sender. If Koushiro does contact me, it's usually through group chat, but on rarity does he go out of his way to single me out. That, and well, he's not the social type unless it's with the handful of people he is comfortable with.

I reply to his text. _Harukawa Library._

 _See you in five._

If Koushiro's seeking me out and _has_ to see me, then it must be something important.

Shrugging, I turn back to the shelves of book spread out before me. To some degree, I'm familiar with this library, just not this department. I had been here in my late teens and early twenties, pouring over business textbooks as the library belonged to my university. Considering it has a wide range of sources with prominent specialties, the library is also open to the public.

To be honest, I would have never expected myself to be caught dawdling in the arts section, so it kind of feel weird, like I'm in a new world that I had only recently discovered. I've decided it to be my latest hobby that has preoccupied my time as of late, considering I needed a distraction from thinking about what has happened between my friends and I.

The argument with Mimi was nearing a week ago and we still haven't made amends, nor do I plan to. I'm quite hurt about it, but what's the point of me lingering on about something that has happened? I know I may have went around the wrong way about it, but what I did, I don't regret it. Once Mimi gets it together, perhaps then I'll be ready to speak to her. As for now, I just need a break from everybody and their drama.

Which has led me to my new project: Spruce up the jewellery store.

By spruce up, I mean give the store a good old fashioned interior make-over. Taeko-san was a bit hesitant at first, but when I presented her some sketches and ideas with what I had in mind, her opinion changed. The least the two of could try was change it's old, gaudy appearance to something a bit more with times and modern because then, perhaps, more customers would show some interest to slip into the store out of curiosity.

 _Minimal Design: An Invaluable Technique_.

Nodding at the title, I stack it on top of the other books in my carry basket. I've missed the physical sensation of _feeling_ the books. I had done enough scrolling and browsing through different types of interiors online, so it was nice to be here instead of being stuck behind a computer screen. Besides, whenever I'd research online, it was impossible to avoid social media.

I _don't_ want to see any more people posting vague statuses on Facebook, nor do I want to know that Makino got married to Tsuyoshi-kun last weekend. And if I spot _one_ more album of baby photos, I will _lose_ it. Most of all I find that travel photos are the worst. It's like a fire of desire burns inside me because whenever I notice them, my need to leave the country becomes more pronounced. It's really effecting me lately. I need a holiday; I _need_ to get out of here. I just don't feel like I belong in Japan anymore.

Everybody is moving on in their lives, and I'm still in a cloud of uncertainty. I'm _thirty_ for crying out loud!

Travel has been my distraction whenever these idiotic anxieties and thoughts would get to me. Whenever questions loomed in my mind whether I was doing the right thing or not, I already found myself packing my belongings and taking a flight out of the country. Taichi has accused me of doing this, and you know what...he is right in a sense. I can't completely disagree him, but don't tell him I told you that.

"Of all the places, I find you here."

I revert my gaze to the newcomer. He's giving me a meek smile, forming his hand in a fist. It looks odd coming from a fully grown man dressed in a business suit and striped white and purple bow tie. Nevertheless, I greet him back by boyishly bumping my fist with his.

"What are you doing here?"

"Thinking up designs to liven up the store," I explain to him. "Taeko-san's thinking about closing it, so I'm going to find every way possible to keep it open."

"That's very noble of you."

"Thanks." I smile. Because people are sending me looks again, I redirect him to a group-study room and once I close the door, I say, "Doesn't it take you back, Koushiro?"

"It's like we're back in university talking - not so animatedly - about our group assignments," Koushiro chuckles.

"I say it's perfect timing that I'm here since your work is just about 'round the corner," I point out. "Finished work?"

"Yeah," Koushiro replies, gingerly tapping his fingers on the desk. "Earlier than I had expected because I have plans tonight."

"Plans on a Thursday?" I tease him. "What _type_ of plans. Are you going on a date, Izumi?"

"Which I need your advice on."

He trails off and I look at him directly in the eye. I half-expect him to let out a laugh and say he's joking, but Koushiro remains pressed on the subject. I gape and try to hold myself together from giggling because I know it's taken a lot out of Koushiro to actually admit this. I honestly had only been making fun of him, but it turns out my false accusation may in fact be correct.

However, it still does not make sense why he's come up to me for advice. I lean back on the plastic chair, voicing my thoughts out loud, "Why me though?"

"I surmised that you'd be the best girl to talk to." As Koushiro continues to speak, his face becomes redder by the second. "Mimi's not the best person to approach right now because of her ongoing fights with Taichi. Anyway, she is out of the question because she'll embarrass me to no end, and well, Mimi's advice would be only useful if I were trying to seduce Taichi, and I'm not into a combat style of relationship-"

I snort.

He proceeds on, "-Miyako? I know she'll tell me a brutal, forceful kind of way to woo the girl I like, since she practically had screamed out her affections to Jyou in a public confession. And Hikari, well, let's just say she doesn't count because she married her first love. She wouldn't have enough experience on dating. In summary, the best option way you."

"Gee, thanks," I mumble. "I feel like I've won the trophy for being the most hopeless one at romance. Are you sure you've asked the right person? I wouldn't say I have the most dating experience either..."

"The right person?" He questions, smirking, "I'm not so sure. As for the person I feel the most at ease talking about it to, you're definitely the right person Sora. The nicest too."

"Now you're making you blush. This is why you're my favourite," I smirk back. I then let out a sigh, "It's the nicest thing I've heard since being called ' _heartless_ ' anyway-"

Koushiro blinks, "What?"

"Nothing," I wave off.

I've been trying to let it go, trying to not let Mimi's words get to me. But although it's been almost a week later, I'm still sore about it. Perhaps, over the years, I've built such a strong, impassive wall around myself that I naturally appear cold and insensitive. Yet, I would have never thought that my own best friend would call me _heartless_.

I shake my head, not wanting to revisit the thought in my head. I go back to the topic, "Our problem is that we're too nice, Kou. This is why we finish last. And you are the _nicest_ guy I know. Therefore, it's only fitting that I help you out. So...tell me the details? Who is this special _someone_?"

It's cute listening to Koushiro rant about this new woman in his life. She's a work colleague of his and seems decent enough to be a potential partner possibility. I had seen her at Koushiro's launch party, and faintly remember her pretty face, but she had been shadowing him the whole time. The way he describes her resembles a little school boy infatuated on his first crush. Then again, I can't help but see Koushiro through motherly eyes. He's our baby in the group, despite him never wanting to admit. Despite being the most successful, we all keep an eye out on Koushiro likes he's everybody's child we share responsibility for.

"This is for you." I unhook the ruby necklace from around my neck and hand it to him.

Koushiro dubiously takes it from me. "I don't know what purpose this will serve for me?"

"Not for you, silly, it's for your date tonight," I explain, chortling.

"Even then, I don't understand why you're giving your jewellery away. Doesn't this hold some special meaning to you?"

"No, not really," I admit. "I've been lately wearing the store's jewellery to try and get future customers on the street to notice. It's been another one of my tactics to get people interested in what the store has to offer. But, since you're one of my good friends, I'm giving this to you for free."

"But I-"

"It will be a perfect gift," I say. "After all, rubies are a love stone. It'll bring you luck, especially in the love department with her."

Koushiro groans out, " _Sora_!"

"It's only the most I can do since you're checking on me," I mutter.

He stares at me, almost guiltily, but I give him a small smile. "That's the other reason why you're here, isn't it? Have the girls sent you to keep an eye on me?"

"You saw through that, huh?" Koushiro awkwardly scratches the back of his head.

I deadpan, "With flying colours."

"They're worried about you, that's why. If you're fighting with Mimi, fair enough. You easily said yes to me seeing you just now, but why aren't you responding to the other girls or _even_ texting them back?"

"Maybe later," I say quietly, trying to sound not bothered by it. However, I know Koushiro sees through my flawed guise.

While being hurt about Mimi's comments, I'm not ready to face Miyako and Hikari. I'm just sick of everybody relying on me, and whenever I need them, nobody ever picks my side. And, well, I'm not like Mimi either. I won't get down on my knees and cry my eyes out until somebody consoles me. I'd rather lock myself in my room and have my own space.

He speaks my name again, "Sora…"

"It's fine," I brush off. "I'll talk to them another time. Just not now. You can pass that message to them if they're that desperate to know. Honestly, Koushiro, I don't really want to talk about it right now."

Koushiro nods. It's good for a change because if it had been the others, they would have pressed further into it. I want time to resolve itself, and I did not want to face the girls yet. It's too soon and I personally don't have the energy to deal with it.

That's when Koushiro chooses to pick another subject that I don't want to think about.

"What about Yamato?"

I blink, bemused. Why is Koushiro bringing him up? I can't help but think about how we had left off the last time, and I subconsciously crinkle my nose at the thought.

This peculiar, fleeting look on my face is something that Koushiro immediately picks up. I know this because there's a hidden smile forming on his lips, as if knowing he's struck a note - even when I didn't know about it myself.

He shamelessly delves further into the topic, "I saw you leave with him at my launch. Did anything happen?"

Jeez. Koushiro _surely_ knows how to hit the bullseye.

I supply an unconvincing answer, "Nothing went on."

"It would be nice if you both work out."

" _Huh_?" I burst out.

"I'm just getting back at you for teasing about my date." Koushiro's chuckling. "I have to say that even though I _doubt_ anything will happen between the two of you-"

I try to keep my face straight, using my utmost willpower to _not_ think that time when Yamato's lips were running down my neck when we were in a heated frenzy on his couch.

"-it would be interesting if two nice people, like yourselves, would get together." Koushiro concludes. "Though, it's a shame that the both of you hold the same similarity whenever it comes to dating. You're both not looking for anything…"

"Hm, perhaps, but if something happens I'd rather go with the flow. I'm not the type of girl to _look_ for a relationship. In the past, I just find myself in one without even knowing it."

Koushiro mocks me, "So you've considered Yamato?"

"No!" I slap him on the arm. "In general!"

"I don't even remember the last time you were in a serious relationship." He studies me.

Avoiding his gaze, I give a weak smile. Recalling old, unwanted, memories is not something I fancy. "Sometimes serious relationships ends up disastrous too."

"What does _that_ mean?"

I begin to take the books out of my basket, placing them on top of each other. I should get around to checking them out and-

"Sora?"

Koushiro's still waiting for an answer.

I give a stiff laugh. "It really is nothing. Just a silly memory, that's all."

Standing up, I throw my backpack on and I don't wait for Koushiro as I stride out the door. I check out my books and as we exit the library I give him a bright smile. "Your date is in three hours, yes?"

Koushiro looks at me suspiciously, " _A-huh_ …"

"Let's go shopping." My eyes bright up.

He frowns. "What for? I need to go home first."

"You're not going on a date dressed like _that_. Fashion involves more than just a tie and suit, Koushiro."

"What's wrong with my clothing?" He glances down at his suit, unable to comprehend that his style may in fact be outdated.

I roll my eyes. "You're not going to a business meeting, nor an expensive restaurant. Wasn't it just the movies that you in mind? We need to get you something stylish and casual since I _know_ nothing fits that category in your wardrobe!"

"Hey!" Koushiro exclaims, slightly offended. "These clothes are stylish."

Before he can come up with an excuse to leave, I'm already kicking him along around the corner to the closest shopping mall.

* * *

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Despite my feet aching, I take the longer alternate route to the subway. Shopping with Koushiro had been highly amusing and, in some sense, therapeutic.

As soon as Koushiro and I had parted ways, my mood had taken a tumble. After a week of practically not socialising, asides from the customer service with my day job, I had forgotten how much I missed interacting with my friends. I really shouldn't be complaining because it _is_ what I wanted.

I needed time for myself, but when Koushiro left the shopping centre I had begun reevaluating my life again. I even went to the extent of thinking about how it was unfair that Koushiro was going on a date tonight.

I'm already envious about everybody in my life moving forward and has some form direction in life, but sometimes I can't help and wonder... _what about me?_ Will I even get struck by Cupid? Is my sole purpose to be alone?

Giving a forlorn sigh, I kick a pebble on the footpath.

 _What_ has gotten into me lately?

When I look up at a sign of blue, neon lights I let out a dry laugh. For some reason, I had found myself at the a sport's bar. It's a bar that Mimi, Taichi, Koushiro and I would frequently visit when we were university students, since it was next to the station conveniently located near our old university. My body seems to have remembered this place as, while lost in my thoughts, I had found myself back at the old hang-out...that or I'm really craving a beer.

For old memory's sake, I decide to go in.

This place sure brings back memories. From Taichi trying to teach Mimi how to play billiards, Koushiro getting drunk for the first time and that time when I won the bar's annual darts contest (which consisted of 10,000 yen tab of spirits and cheap wine).

Clubbing and bars were fun back in the day, but this particular one was the main place where we'd always meet up after class. The drinks were cheap and there was no dress code, so you didn't look like an idiot when you were simply wearing jeans, runners and a shirt.

I sit at the bar and order a pint of _Kirin_. Sipping up the foam, I take a gulp of the beer and I feel immensely satisfied by the refreshing taste. I casually watch a soccer match that is playing on the big screen and when the commercials go on, I slip in and out of the toilets.

Upon arriving back to the bar, I'm about to ask for another drink when somebody beats me to it.

"1 litre of Kirin _onegaishimasu_ , pleazu. Please! Beeru-beer... _Berri_? _Very pleasu!_ "

I'm already letting out a strangled moan when I recognise the voice. Of course there's only one idiot who mixes Japanese and English when drunk.

Just when I wanted to rest, Taichi Yagami has interrupt my peace and quiet by being the moron he is. He's got his tie circled around his head (rocking the typical drunk business man look), face red as a tomato, one leather shoe missing and his white shirt is stained with God knows what!

I've seen this side to him one too many times. One more drinks and he'll be passed out and on the floor. The bartender is equally as dunce because he still gives him a jug of beer with a glass. Being Taichi, he drinks from the jug and starts to high-five a random, confused stranger that is sitting next to him.

I want to hide from him. I cover my face, hoping he won't turn my direction.

Unfortunately, he does.

"TAKENOUCHI!" He roars.

Taichi stumbles next to me and _boy_ does he reek! I try to wriggle away from him, but his arm has already fallen around my shoulder. He plants a sloppy kiss on my cheek.

"Get off me!" I shove him away. "You're being disgusting."

He guffaws. "I'm funny."

"No, you're not," I disagree. I cross my arms together. "Go back to Mimi."

I'm may not have been contacting any of my friends lately, but the only reason I can think of Taichi getting this drunk (and by himself) has to do with Mimi. Which namely means that the two haven't made up yet.

"We broke up," Taichi replies to me in a croaky voice.

He points a shaking finger at me, about to say something else, then turns back to his jug of beer. He can't formulate sentences now?

 _Oh crap…_

Taichi's eyes are getting droopy, which means this isn't a good thing. His elbows bend onto the counter, anchoring his head in between his hands. I give him five minutes before he crashes his head onto the counter.

Since I've been out with him on several drinking occasions, it's like I've memorised his drinking pattern off by heart. I'm lucky that Taichi's not a vomiting drunk. However, whenever Taichi passes out it's impossible to rouse him _and_ transferring him around is a strenuous activity because his dead weight is hard to deal with.

The bartender sends me a warning look.

From the looks of it, I guess he's my responsibility now. I sigh. Even when I want to avoid my friends, they somehow manage to find me and I'm stuck caring for them because I _love_ them oh so much. I roll my eyes to myself, wishing I hadn't dropped by the bar at all.

Knowing that I can't look after Taichi alone, I call Hikari.

I would have picked Koushiro, but he's on a date. Besides, the Takaishi residence isn't too far from the bar. Despite me being on avoiding terms with Hikari, by not answering her calls or texts, I can't leave her brother here on his own. I'm not that mean. Takeru needs to give me a hand because it's not worth me risking and breaking my back to get Taichi home.

"Hello?"

I mumble onto the phone, "Hey Takeru. Do me a fave and come over to the sports bar right next to Nezu eki? Your moronic brother-in-law had a bit too drink and is just about to crash on me-"

" _Sora?_ " There's a pause. "It's me. Yamato."

"Yamato?!" I stammer out.

Knowing it's Yamato has completely thrown me off guard, and yes, my thick-skull is thinking about that night - _brain, stop thinking!_ I had assumed that it was Takeru because on the phone Yamato almost sounds identical to his brother.

Taichi hollers, "YAMA BABY!"

"Shut up, Taichi!" I nudge him in the gut. I hear Yamato laugh on the other line. "So-uh..is Takeru home?"

His voice is amused, "He's out with Hikari. It's Thursday, remember?"

That's right! It _is_ Thursday! Which means that Yamato's babysitting the kids because it's Takeru and Hikari's weekly date night!

I cringe. "Um, uh...don't worry about it!"

"Taichi's drunk," Yamato states. "You reckon you can take care of him on his own-?"

"Well-I, well…"

"You need a hand. I get it. This is all about Mimi, isn't it?"

"If you get it, then come over right now!" I exclaim, catching Taichi's hand before he's about to accidentally knock over the jug of beer. "I'm so sick of this ! I can't be the only one having to look after our _stupid_ friends. You're on the same boat as me, which means you've got to help me out. Get your ass here and talk some sense into your _infuriating_ best of a friend-"

"Fine, fine." He cuts me off, mid-rant. "I get it, Sora. I'm going to have to bring the kids though. Can't leave them by themselves."

" _What_?" My eyes bulge.

"Bye!"

He hangs up the phone.

Out of all people, it _has_ to be Yamato. Why hadn't I called Miyako instead? I glance at Taichi who has officially passed out now. The _darn_ idiot always causes such a scene.

I don't have to wait long until I find the blond-headed man strolling into the bar. Women had turned their heads to stare at him as he stalks over to my direction. His eyes are narrowed and tired, hair dishevelled and his shirt is even stained with what appears to be soy sauce. As unkempt as he looks, he still manages to look attractive and replacing the typical scowl on his face is a wry grin once he sees Taichi's retired figure.

"What an idiot," he mouths to me.

I nod. It's unfair that he seems relaxed and calm about us meeting again, despite our last hangout having turned into a semi make-out session. I guess making out with randoms is a common thing in his life. He _is_ a rockstar. Although some of my friends have told me that Yamato isn't like that, I can't help but stereotype.

He yanks Taichi up from the stool and I support Taichi's other side as we carefully drag Taichi out of the bar. The sudden movement awakens Taichi for a brief moment. He catches Yamato's gaze and brazenly smirks at him. "You've come to my rescue, Yama baby."

" _Seriously_?" I snarl. "No wonder Mimi's left you."

Taichi passes out again. Yamato and I let out a groan because that means we're still stuck half-carrying, half-dragging him to the car. If Taichi wakes up tomorrow, accompanying his hangover headache will be bruises on his legs and feet.

Yamato throws Taichi into the front seat. Snoozing Keita is resting in the middle baby's seat. Hiroto is sitting behind the driver's seat, so I take the opposite side in the back, making Risa sit on top of my lap. Risa is giggling when she sees me, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Aunt Sora!" She hits Taichi's head with a plastic sword. "Is Uncle Taichi sick?"

"He's suffering from a mental disorder called _daftness_ ," I inform her, face straight. Yamato hears me and lets out another one of his infamous chuckles.

Yamato glances at me through the rearview mirror. "Don't brainwash them, Sora."

Hiroto looks irritated. "Hurry up, Uncle Yamato! You promised you'd finish that pirate story before papa and mama gets home!"

"Aye Aye, Captain." He salutes.

Five minutes and we arrive at the children's house. I get out first, unbuckling the seatbelts and allowing Hiroto and Risa to file out of the car. Yamato's already in the process of unlocking the front door. He comes back to my side, bending his back to snatch up baby Keita and takes him into the house. The kids follow him inside.

I unfasten Taichi's seatbelt. He groans. I punch him in the arm. Pretty mean, even for my standards, as I'm punching the victim without his knowledge, but it serves him right for putting me in this situation.

Nevertheless, I take his arm and place it around my neck, heaving him out of the car. Yamato comes out in time to lug Taichi's other side. As we nearly reach the door, headlights beam at our direction. Footsteps jog up to us and I see Takeru from the side of my vision.

Takeru taps my side, winks and gestures to me that he's take care of the rest. He replaces me, assisting his older brother to relocate Taichi into the house.

Seeing that the task is no longer in my hands, I retrace my steps back to the car to grab my handbag. As I do this, I lift my head out of the car when I hear somebody call my name.

"Hikari?" I reply. I give her a small smile. I feel like I'm sweating bullets watching her stand before me, scrutinising my every move.

She clicks her tongue at me, hands on her waist. "Why haven't you been talking to us?"

"It's…uh-"

Takeru chooses the right time to unintentionally barge into our conversation. "Sora, did you want to come in for tea?"

I excuse myself. "I really need to go. I have work in the morning and I need time to sleep. It's been a big day."

Hikari protests, "But-"

"I'm going." I confirm. Hikari's sending me an incredulous look, but I've already given a low bow and am turning on my heels and living the scene.

My amble turns into a walk, which then transits into a run. I'm huffing and puffing when I'm a block away. I do owe Hikari and explanation, but I really don't want to face anybody right now. I'm still upset and hurt and...well, I just can't deal with all this drama. I have enough going on at work, with the chance of the store shutting down, and listening to what Hikari and Miyako has to say is something I already can predict. They'll take Mimi's side and say that I'm not being a good friend and it's something that I don't need right now.

I duck into a Family Mart and find myself scanning through the beverage section. At least I can pick a drink to bring home since Taichi's ruined my night.

My chest is rising up and down as I stare at the selection of drinks like I'm making a very important decisions in life. And because I'm staring blankly at all the brands for so long, I don't notice the person standing besides me until he crushes an ice-cold beer can onto my neck.

Shuddering, I take it into my hands and stare in bemusement at the man.

"It's on me." Yamato says. He nudges his head at the door. "I'll take you home, Takenouchi."

* * *

 **(a/n)** Happy New Year! :) Sorry for the late update. Been caught up with my other stories xD Hope you've enjoyed this chapter!


	11. chapter eleven: tug of war

****SMUT ALERT****

 _Surprise, surprise. This is a M-rated chp. Expect my failed-attempt at smut, or skip the first scene. xD_

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter eleven

 **t** ug **o** f **w** ar

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 ****SMUT ALERT****

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I like silence. Silence is good.

 _Especially_ when you have had a rough day.

Call me out for over-exaggerating, but I've got to say that I have done a _darn_ fantastic job at avoiding my friends as of late. Therefore, reactivating my socialising switch and coming out of my introverted ways has drained my soul today. My semi-hibernation hasn't even lasted long enough that I had wanted, and yet I'm still I find myself faced with drama.

And before you dare to ask, I am _not_ PMSing. With many thanks to Taichi, indirectly Mimi, and taking Koushiro out of the equation, the rest of the day has turned out horrible. Even now, as I sit in Yamato's car, I'm still quite irritable as I lament over the day's happenings.

Crossing my arms, I let out a long sigh and sink bank into the leather interior.

Home has never felt _this_ far away.

I regret taking Yamato's offer. The train back would have distracted me, but being with Yamato is different. He reminds me of my friends. Although he had stopped talking to me after I had buckled the seatbelt over me, his quietness speaks in volume - especially his direct, scrutinising eyes. Does he intend on smouldering me into a crisp with his mere gaze? I appreciate the silence, but being with him in the car is keeping me on edge as well.

Perhaps it's because we're usually talking to me whenever he drives, or whenever we're in each other's presence. Sure, he does sometimes come off as quiet, but this is the longest I've been with him without him muttering a word.

He pulls up in front of my house. As I try to open the door, the handle won't budge. He's locked me in.

"What's wrong?"

I hate being cornered like this. Everybody hates being asked that question, even more so when they don't feel like talking about what's troubling them. And, right now, I'm in this situation. I refuse to answer Yamato. He ignores my silent treatment, and stubbornly chooses to speak up again.

"Clearly you're upset. What's the deal with Hikari? I've known her all my life and _nobody_ fights with Hikari." Yamato says. "Unless you're Takeru, but that's another story."

Raising my eyebrow at him, I mutter, "Let me out, Yamato."

"Fine, keep shutting everybody out." He laughs at me, dryly. His laughter annoys me even more.

"What do you want me to say?" I growl. "This is between Mimi and I, and Hikari isn't somebody I want to talk to right now. Right now I don't feel like talking to anybody. And the last thing I need is to involve you!"

Yamato rolls his eyes. "Aren't I already involved? Anything that radiates around Taichi becomes my problem too. It can't be _that_ bad. Taichi and Mimi are doing the _real_ fighting right now, so I'm sure that Mimi and you will talk again again."

"You make it sound simple," I reply. "What makes you think I want to talk to her?"

"Instinct. Right now you don't, but you eventually will. As much as I like to push Taichi aside, he comes back like a boomerang. We're the same in that aspect, dealing with our idiotic friends that is..."

I huff out, "What if I don't want to anymore?"

"This isn't about them," Yamato concludes. "As far as I know, Mimi's being Mimi. If you're frustrated, you would have become frustrated and fed up with her from the start of your friendship. Mimi hasn't changed here...she _doesn't_ change because she's always being her."

I challenge him. "Then what _is_ this about?"

"It's about you."

Turning my head at Yamato, I question him, " _Me?_ "

"Something's wrong, something's shifted and you've lost your footing. The 'Sora' that everybody describes to me seems a bit lost." He tilts his head, studying me like I'm a specimen that he's looking at through a microscope - and I _hate_ it. He doesn't seem keen about backing down. "Because everybody is acting how they usually do, but you seem-"

"Stop it," I whisper, looking away from him. "I don't like you psycho-analysing me. I don't like _anybody_ doing it."

He continues, "Is it because you're always keeping an eye out for others that you don't know what you want for yourself-"

"Shut it, Yamato!" I snap. Somehow Yamato just knows the right words to say. He prods at the right spots and easily gets under my skin, pressing the right buttons whenever he pleases.. "What gives you the right to judge me! You don't even _know_ me, for goodness sake!"

"I may not know everything about you, Sora, but I'm not the one tearing up."

My bottom lip trembles. I steal a glance at him one last time, trying to steady my voice the best I can. I fail. "Open the door."

I hear it unlock and without uttering a good-bye, I dash out of the car as fast as I can. As I run, I feel the breeze against my skin. My cheeks feel cooler because of the dampness from my tears and this further frustrates me because I'm reminded that I've lost my control in front of Yamato.

 _God, this is so embarrassing!_

Am I being a princess here? What is wrong me? I didn't even thank him for driving me back home and- _No!_

I shake my head. There's no time to regret anything. What is done is done. I'll have to face Yamato another time because right now I should just go home and hit the sack. I don't start work until midday tomorrow, but I need to wake up and do the washing and clean the house and...oh, who am I kidding? I don't even know what I'm going to do prior to my shift tomorrow. It's all dependant on my mood, and right now it is _absolutely_ foul.

Unlocking the door, I slip off my shoes and just as I'm about to slam the door shut, something prevents me from doing so. I glare at the arm that is keeping the door ajar, stepping forward to find that the owner of the arm is undoubtedly no one other but Yamato.

"I don't recall giving you permission to visit," I breathe out, exasperated as I close my eyes tight, wishing he would disappear from my doorstep.

There's a soft chuckle. "Perhaps I'm a gatecrasher."

"Aren't you too old for this?" I mumble, not finding him the slightest bit funny.

Yamato pauses, as if choosing the correct words, to make me feel better. "I'm not exactly the kind of guy that likes to leave a girl crying. My father always told me not to leave a crying girl."

I supply, "Well, I'm not exactly a girl because I'm afraid I'm past that stage. Old woman suits me more."

"Or lady."

"That too." I agree.

Yamato places a soft handkerchief in my hand. This action causes me to open my eyes, and I see his cheeks are tinged pink and there's a frown on his lips. Feeling foolish, I dab the corner of my eyes. I'd probably be moaning out and throwing a tantrum to myself if Yamato wasn't here, but he hasn't budged. He's still standing there, half inside and half outside of my apartment, and he doesn't look intent or focused about leaving either.

"Listen, Yamato, it isn't your fault that I had a mini breakdown." I tell him, hoping that he'll leave so that I can finally have my own peace and quiet. "I feel sorry that you had to witness it...but don't think anything of it. Really, it's no big deal. I'm fine. You should really get going. It's late."

He ignores my wishes and enters. I gape as he takes off his shoes and welcomes himself inside my home, ambling into the hallway. "Aren't you going to make your guest some tea?"

Following his tracks, I beg him, "Yamato. Go home. _Please._ "

Yamato stops moving. His broad shoulders tense up and it's only when he pivots back to face me, I swear I see how incensed he is. It shows in his eyes. There's something about his eyes that flicker with sporadic moments of strong emotions. In his eyes I've seen laughter, amusement, reservedness...but right now they're filled with a combination of unaltered anger and pure vexation.

"If something's bothering you, you should say it flat out," Yamato says, coldly. "The more you keep it, the more angry you become."

I look away from him, unable to return his strong gaze. "But I-"

My sentence is cut off midway because Yamato's pushed me against the wall. I'm startled when I stare up at him, bemused and uncertain of his intentions. What does he want from me? Because we're in close proximity, I watch as he Adam's apple moves when he swallows and I bite my lip, trying to look away from him.

He presses a knee between my legs and leans forward. I exhale, feeling the blood rush through my veins as I have no choice but to stare directly in his deep, blue eyes.

"I used to be like you," Yamato admits. "That's why you need to stop keeping people out."

"Perhaps...but that doesn't answer to why you've got me unnecessarily against the wall." I quip back. My arms are spread against the wall. If I were to shift the slightest, my body would topple over him, but I'm not going to cave in just yet.

He lowly whispers into my ear, "Maybe I've always wanted to do this."

We're not talking about my insecurities now.

I shiver as I feel his hand run through my hair, dropping down to caress my cheek. We're still battling each other, staring at each other, daring who will drop their guard first. His body heat emits against mine. He hasn't had any to drink; and it's not like I'm drunk either, but we're still heated by each other's presence. Our breathing becomes shallow and irregular.

"Jun?" I heave out.

I don't know what's going on between her and Yamato, so I want to make sure I'm not breaking any boundaries. The last thing I want is to be the type of person who broke up a relationship. Even though I don't think he even has a relationship with Jun, there's no harm confirming it.

"What about her?"

"You're cheating," I accuse, staring at him, but not moving from the predicament I'm in. My arms circle around his neck regardless.

"We've stopped." Yamato says, "We were never together anyway."

"Good."

I sound desperate, but I've passed the stage of caring. I want to get laid and right now Yamato's the perfect candidate.

Yamato arches his knee higher and I breathe out. His movement causes my legs to cling around his knee, propping me up onto my tiptoes. His pupils dilate as he watches me struggle to adjust to the new position. I can't take this anymore. We lock eyes again and I hesitate before ruining my facade and giving him a quaint nod.

He doesn't hold back.

Yamato dives in, lips finding my neck as he trails a series of kisses against my skin.

 _Oh God..._

I move my body closer to his, head dropping back as I let out a moan when he bites my lower lip. As he attacks my lips, my arms fall around his neck and I deepen the kiss. Our tongues collide, dancing and battling for domination and I smirk when he groans. "Darn it, Sora."

Amongst the fervent kisses we, somehow, migrate to my bedroom. We're still kissing when he slips off my cardigan and takes off my top as I shimmy out of my skirt. If I was thinking straight I would have felt awkward having his eyes on my body, but since overwhelmed with lust all I desire is to get him into bed. With only just my black lingerie on, I pull him by the collar and worsen the kiss.

He lures me onto the top of the sheets, smirking when I fall on top of him as he cups my breasts. I grit my teeth, holding back a whimper, but a moan escapes my lips when he places a hand between my legs. Attempting to get away from his hold, I collapse on the bed and kneel over him as I undo the buttons to his shirt. When he's completely out of his clothes and about to take his briefs off, I focus on kissing him.

Yamato chuckles, biting my neck as he unhooks my bra. He starts to lick around my mounds, but it's when his hand slips past my underwear and a finger enters me, I freeze. It's been a while somebody's done this to me, and boy have I needed to get this yearning, this pent up feeling out. This is exactly what I need; and it's a pleasant distraction to delve in after everything I've had to deal with.

He glances at my reaction, and it encourages him to keep going as he takes it in and out of me. Another finger, then another. My eyes roll back as I'm gasping for air. The ecstasy, the pleasure makes me feel like my soul is being ripped out of my body. He slows it down and I scowl at him.

I whack his hand away, straddling him. He lowers his head into the pillow, arms behind his head as he smiles at what I'm doing. He says in a husky voice, "You sure?"

We're already this far and he's still asking for my consent. I let out a dry laugh, slightly grimacing as I slowly mount on to him. There's no going back.

My hip rocks against his and our movements are in sync. It's slow, but soon it gradually begins to intensify and his thrusts get stronger. Waves of fire ignited through my body. I let out a moan when we both reach our peak, toppling over him in a shuddering mess.

Just when I think he's about to shove me off now that we've both gotten what we wanted, I'm bewildered when he holds me in a long embrace until my body stops quaking. Yamato rests his head against the crook of my neck, holding my back close against his body. I slightly move back to glance at him through my blurry vision. His eyes are closed and there's this smug, yet satisfied expression on his face. I roll my eyes, but smile.

Even if this happens to be a one night-thing; it's worth it.

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* * *

My body is aching when I wake up. I hear birds chirping and seconds after being roused, memories of what happened that night play on repeat in my head.

We had done it at least four times until we finally went to sleep. Yamato had taken me through heaven and hell. He would rough, then switch to a slow, endearing pace. I couldn't tell what he'd do next, but either way it had felt good and I had needed it.

If my mother heard my thoughts like this, she'd surely have my head.

I giggle into my pillow. Of course, Yamato's here and I don't expect him to be. We had done a mistake because unlike a one-night stand, we're bound to bump into each other. Nevertheless, if he wants to do it again...I'll refuse him. As much as he's fine with the whole friends-with-benefit thing he had going on with Jun, I don't think I could ever allow myself to get into that type of situation.

Still, I can't help but feel foolish and giddy. Yamato has a nice body. I had discovered a random tattoo of a treble clef on his lower torso (which he had told me was an accidental tattoo he had gotten when he was drunk), a heart-shaped mole on his abdomen and that his skin is sensitive when I specifically saw pink lines on his back. I remember blood rushing to my cheeks when I had seen the long trail of nail scratches I had done. He called it battle wounds, I called him lame, which he conceded to with one of his throaty chuckles.

I throw a baggy shirt over my head and a pair of loose shorts. The first steps hurt, but after walking around to hunt for my hairbrush, I begin to feel better. However, as I look in the mirror, I do like I've fought with Mother Nature. My hair is all over the place, my eye bags are darker than usual, lips chapped and my neck is bruised.

"Great," I mutter to myself. "I look like sin personified. I really need to apply a lot of foundation to hide these hickeys. Bloody Yamato."

My stomach grumbles, so I decide to hit the kitchen first before the shower.

I feel like I'm dreaming when I see Yamato in my kitchen. I don't expect any night-stands to stay, but - I guess - Yamato his different.

I watch as he pours hot water into two mugs. Besides the mugs are a stack of pancakes. I take a whiff of them and my mouth immediately waters. I don't have pancake mix in my pantry, so I'm thrown off guard that Yamato's made them from scratch. I groan when I notice that he hasn't even put on his top, but I'm thankful that he at least has hit bottoms on.

"Morning." Yamato greets me, grinning.

"Yeah." I reply with a yawn. "You too."

I want to hide in a corner and cry. I look horrible and he's...well he's seen me already. Who cares?

Sighing, I take the plate of pancakes and place it onto the dining table. I snatch two sets of cutlery, while watering a quarter of a glass into the pot of of the orchids that I'm using as a centrepiece. It's old fashioned to have flowers on the table, but it's a habit I've inherited from my mother because it makes my apartment feel more homely. It's odd having company at this time in the morning. I'm used to waking up by myself, so seeing Yamato here at this hour is a peculiar sight.

Yamato hands me a cup of coffee, taking a seat in front of me.

I take a sip of it and let out a sigh when I feel the warm liquid run down my throat. It's exactly what I need. I stare across the table and find Yamato's eyes on me. There's a fond, yet amused, look on his face and because he's observing me, I feel myself blushing.

Boy, is this awkward.

"I thought you left." I break the ice.

Yamato shrugs. "Thought I'd make us some pancakes. Knew you wouldn't mind because I did hear your stomach grumbling when I woke up. You are my new friend, after all."

I made a face at him, which caused him to smirk in response. I don't know the context of 'friend' and I don't dare to investigate further into it.

"Besides, I couldn't leave until I saw that room dedicated to your teddy bear collection."

I narrow my eyes, glaring at him. "You went into _that_ room? Did you do a thorough tour of my home when I was asleep? Have you ever heard of invasion of privacy, Yamato?"

Yamato chuckles. "Ever since you told me about your collection, I had to ask Taichi if it was true. He told me that you had a room full, so I decided to see if it was true…"

"Impossible," I sigh, chewing a slice of pancake.

We eat in silence for a couple of minutes until he finally speaks up. "It's between the two us, alright? None of our friends can find out."

"Not a single one of them," I agree, almost automatically. I lick the syrup of my lips and Yamato catches it.

He laughs. "Even though it was a mistake, and us acting like horny teenagers...I don't regret it though."

"Same," I confess. "Glad that we're both on the same page."

Nevertheless, I can't help but feel embarrassed by all this. I cover my hands with my face, but the quietness makes me curious. I peak at him through my fingers and see that he's also looking at me.

We both crack up laughing.

Damn, we're _screwed_...

* * *

 **(a/n)** Well, that escalated xD Probably my first official smut scene on this site, so I apologise if it's awkward. Haha. Some people may not have liked this scene, but it was going to happen regardless. Sora's headspace isn't the best right now. I'll reply to reviews later today...and eventually edit this.

Hope you..uh..liked this chp? xD


	12. chapter twelve: jack of all trades

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter tweleve

 **j** ack **o** f **a** ll **t** rades

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"Sora-chan?"

Wiping the sweat from my brow with the back of my sleeve, I bring the paint-roller down the surface of the wall. It's the second layer of white paint, but I think a third layer might look better. Or perhaps I should put some texture or colour in it? No. I shake my head. There's a reason why I've chosen white for the walls and putting texture or any other colour might make it harder to decorate the store.

I place my hands on my hips, gazing at my work. The store looks _much_ better now. For a while, it had been on my mind, to mention to Taeko-san that the hideously outdated, canary-yellow walls needed to be repainted...and now that we're attempting a different strategy to lure more customers, after suggesting the idea, Taeko-san had _actually_ approved of it.

Bending over, I set the roller into the rectangular container of paint, allowing it to be adequately soaked. I carefully take the paint-roller out and as I'm about to proceed with doing the third layer, a voice interrupts me.

" _Sora-chan_?"

I blink, angling my body to face the direction where the voice had come from. Taeko-san is hobbling by the entrance of the store with her walking stick. Sometimes, when her arthritis plays up, she uses this walking aid. Because of my manager's youthful personality, I frequently forget how old she really is.

I reply with a small smile, "Yes, Taeko-san?"

"I've been calling for you over the past minute. My dear, it's closing time. In fact, we closed _three_ hours ago." Taeko sharply says, "You shouldn't be pushing yourself. There's no need to do something like this after hours, especially when I don't have enough money to supply and overtime pay..."

From the corner of my eye, I note that the old woman continues to linger by the door, looking guiltily at me. I let out a sigh and brush her off, "It's fine. You can leave without me. I'll close up."

Taeko protests, "But you've done more than enough, Sora. For the past fortnight, I've noticed the increase in customers. I don't know how you've been doing it, but I'm really grateful-"

"It's no big deal," I mutter, stepping up onto the steel ladder to get an easier leverage at accessing the high ceiling. "I'll be done soon."

"Are you sure?"

I stubbornly nod in reply.

"Well, dear, I've left some choc-chip cookies and green tea in the staff room. You've worked hard today."

"Don't give me only the credit," I mumbled. "You're lucky that your granddaughter has been helping out too. Thank God for summer holidays!"

Taeko's granddaughter, Natsumi, has well in fact livened up the store. I may have spruced up the place here and there, but since Natsumi was staying in Tokyo for the summer break with Taeko, she had offered a helping hand. That, and well, Natsumi was quite cute. Most of the customers that had entered the store were boys in their teens attempting to get woo her and ask for her number.

While Natsumi served the customers inside, I held my own outside and offered coffee on the street while wearing this hideous maid cafe outfit to 'attract' customers (don't ask how I go it).

Considering the location is near Akihabara, Daisuke had suggested that I cosplay as a maid to get more customers interested in what the store has to offer. I wouldn't have come across the thought if I hadn't decided to flitch a coffee machine from one of his restaurants. When I told him it wasn't a bad idea, he gawked and said he was mocking me. I slipped him the line that _beggars can't be choosers_ and he even went to the extent of opening the cashier to give me some cash. I didn't take it, of course, but it's like a stab to the pride when one of your juniors is worried about your own welfare. I must look like trainkwreck to him.

Nevertheless, Daisuke's mock suggestion was something I went ahead with...even if I had to sell my soul in the process; I'm going to try every strategy under the sun to keep the jewellery store alive. Besides, all my years of working in retail, has given me a clear vision of how to keep the store going. And, even if it means I have dress up like a maid to do so, I'm willing to give it a try...

"Promise me you'll go home after you finish. Or at least have a break in between? You haven't eaten all day, love."

"Yes, Taeko-san," I reply. I sigh when I see her still standing on the same spot. I step off the ladder and put the roller down. Giving her a quick hug, I say, "Thanks for the cookies. I'll see you in the morning."

She finally leaves and I get back to business.

Yes, one more layer and I'm _definitely_ calling it quits.

I press the roller against the surface, gritting my teeth as I roll it up and down, ensuring that every single spot is covered. I'm definitely skipping my exercises tonight. Who knew paint-rolling could be _this_ tiring?

My muscles are burning, eyes are watering and I feel quite winded from the effort I'm putting into the store's make-over. Right now, even the smell of the paint is beginning to trigger my allergies.

I combust. As the sneeze gets out of my system, I feel a light breeze hit me simultaneously. Rubbing my eyes, I recover and I lift my gaze to find a lady with lilac coloured hair materialise by the entrance.

 _Great..._

Ha. They've chosen a worthy candidate. It's ironic that it's Miyako who has decided to take the challenge of approaching me first. The girls obviously know I'm still peeved with Mimi, and Hikari, I guess, doesn't know how to handle my personality when I'm mad. Which leaves Miyako...she may complain and say what's on her mind ever so bluntly, but there's a sharp logic behind the way she thinks and she knows how to respond back with her own wits and smarts.

"Miyako?"

"Who else do you think I am?" The younger lady's lips are sloped downwards. She sarcastically bites back, "I'm surprised you recognise me since you're not talking to _any_ of us."

Her response irritates me, so I turn my back to her and progress on painting the wall. If Miyako plans to give me cold attitude, I'll gladly return her affections. She can _darn_ right leave if she's going to treat me like that.

And you know what? …I _actually_ do tell her this.

Unfortunately, for me, I don't hear the door open and close which means she's still here and I know she's too stubborn to leave without getting answers from me. Sighing, I step down the ladder and place the paint roller back onto the plastic tray.

"What do you want from me, Miyako?" I say. "Haven't I made it clear to you that I want space?"

"Which is bullshit," Miyako replies, however her tone is softer. "This is _so_ like you to push everybody away when something's bothering you. And, I know, that you've been like this for a while and it's lasting longer than usual! The least you could do is show me some respect by not lying about to my face. Aren't we friends?"

"Shouldn't you be there for Mimi?" I mumble. "I can cope quite well on my own."

Miyako snarls. "This _isn't_ about Mimi."

"Now isn't the right time."

"Then _when_ will it be, Sora?"

I exhale and respond back, impatiently, "Then _what_ do you want?"

I'm not often this rude, but I'm fed up with it all. I've been doing a magnificent job avoiding the girls, and now that Miyako's here, I'm starting to lose my cool. For the past weeks of not talking to any of them, distracting myself with the store's progress has been my priority and what has kept me busy.

"I _want_ ," Miyako emphasises, "you to be honest with yourself. And...I don't want you to be like this. Can't we be civil? If you're angry or frustrated, _tell_ me why you are. We - Hikari and I can't read your mind, Sora. You've guarded yourself so much it's too hard to tell what you're thinking anymore. Ever since you came back from Spain, you've-"

"You think this is about Spain?" I reply, voice cold.

Miyako sternly eyes me. "Partly."

"Well, it's not," I conclude.

"Sure! Continue to lie to me!" Miyako snaps. "I saw you in Spain. I saw _you_ with Sebastian. The other girls mightn't have known about him, but I saw how _happy_ you were and I-"

I stop her. If she's going to attack me while I'm half down the ladder and deliver me a list of verbal blows, we should at least sit somewhere and talk about it. In other words, I don't particularly fancy getting so worked up that my feelings may, predominantly, cause me to fall off the ladder and onto my face. Grace is something that I lack.

Grabbing another ceramic cup from the cabinet, I pour some luke-warm tea and slide it across to Miyako, who is now sitting with me in the staff room.

"I thought I told you not to talk about Spain," I whisper.

Miyako snorts. "What about? That you almost got _married_?"

I flinch.

Everybody has skeletons in their closet that they don't like exposing, and it so happens that Miyako is the only one who knows about one of my most hushed secrets. It hadn't been intentional because she wasn't meant to know. Miyako had found out about my most recent relationship when she had thought thought that it was a good idea to give me a surprise visit when I was in Spain. However, during her unaccounted holiday she had found out my secret.

She points out. "Nobody's here. Your secret's safe with me. And, I don't know why you have to be ashamed about it. Isn't it over?"

I give a bitter laugh, glancing at the bare finger that used to wear a diamond ring. "I guess you can say that."

Sinking my teeth into a cookie, I say, "If that's what you've come for, to take jabs at me about what happened back in Spain, then I don't see the point in this conversation-"

"What I'm trying to get across to you, _Sora_ , is that distancing yourself from us isn't going to do yourself any good. I don't know why I haven't realised it earlier. Every time you get like this, you either leave the country or stop talking to us. What is making you feel on edge?"

 _Everything…_

"Sora?"

Have I really lost my footing?

Perhaps. Probably. _Yes!_

I had even slept with Yamato, for goodness' sake! It was a one night thing, and we had been casual about it, but it was something that _could_ have been avoided if I wasn't having a mental breakdown. The images of that night still are clear in my mind and whenever I think about it, it makes me want to squirm and hide. Yamato had brushed it off like it was nothing; and so had I. But I can't, well...I can't _stop_ thinking about it. Perhaps because it was unexpected, but it was amusing. And _boy,_ was it hot-

I shake my head to myself. What is wrong with me? I'm _not_ like this. I don't sleep around just for the hell of it! I'm selective with the guys I share a bed. I'm _thirty_! I'm too old to be acting _this_ immaturely.

"Sora?"

I blink.

"Mimi's really upset. You're not talking to her. And, if you hadn't noticed, this break-up with Taichi and her...it seems serious this time. In fact, it's probably the longest period that they've been separated," Miyako divulges. "Can't you get in contact with her? She needs you."

"Doesn't she always," I scornfully grumble back. I wipe the crumbs of the cookie against my smock apron. "I'm tired of fixing the pieces. For once, can't she handle her own relationship?"

Miyako gives me a look.

"Yeah, yeah...I know," I roll my eyes. "Quit being a _bitch_ , Sora."

" _Please_?"

"Fine," I cave. "I'll talk to her on my own terms though. I did a good job avoiding you lot, even the boys, but you've got to give me time to get me back into the socialising mood-"

"How about Koushiro? Oh wait, I even hear you've been with Yamato too? Is that right?"

" _What_?" I splutter, almost spitting out the sip of tea.

I glance at her and I see a smug look on her face. Sometime's Miyako's too observant for her own good. Has she caught on that quickly? Does she know we've slept together? Has Yamato already spread the word? (He better have not, the ass...though I don't think he's the type of person to be a gossiper). Our group of friends are so tight-knit so if one person doesn't keep a secret, everything radiates to the other and before you know it, _everybody_ knows. Confidentiality? Huh! There's no such thing between us.

"Daisuke mentioned something about you leaving with Yamato at Koushiro's launch, and Hikari said that Yamato drove you home that night Taichi was dead drunk." Miyako angles her head, studying me. "Unless my sources are wrong or are they, Sora?"

I shrug.

She smirks. "What's going on between you and Yamato?"

I don't reply. She doesn't either. The silence is prickling and infuriating because she _keeps s_ mirking. She _knows_ that I know that she's getting under my skin. If Miyako isn't a nurse, I'm sure she'd make a darn great psychologist. And, maybe, because I'm _clearly_ insane from holding my own vital, disclosed information to myself for so long (and not having a girlfriend to chatter about it to), I can't help but suddenly burst out to her...

"We slept together."

Pause.

"Oh. My. _God_!" Miyako squeals, almost breaking the ceramic tea cup as it slips out of her fingers. She catches it before the liquid spreads across the table. Furiously grinning, she points at me in accusation. "I knew it! I've always thought you'd be great together!"

"You aren't listening to me, Miyako," I say and then correct her, "We're _not_ together. We only fucked."

Miyako blabs on, " _Why_ are you killing this? Don't you have a romantic cell in your body? Your ancestors wouldn't be happy about how to you talk about this, young lady-"

"If it makes you feel better," I rearrange my words, "we _fornicated._ In other words, it was nothing and it won't _ever_ happen again. And, please, don't you dare tell anyone."

"I'm your secret keeper. Second one within the past two years, in fact. I won't tell a soul."

Although Miyako's kept quiet about Sebastian, somehow I'm not certain that she will this time because this secret involves Yamato. If anything, Miyako has the capability of telling _everybody_ in our group of friends. We already have Taichi and Mimi stirring enough migraine-inducing drama, which therefore makes it unappealing to add Yamato and my scandalous night to the mix.

"So...what do you think of it?" Miyako questions me.

"The sex?" I respond, awkwardly. "Yeah, it was..um..nice?"

Miyako giggles. "Not the sex, silly. I mean Yamato! Don't you think he will be a great potential...you know?"

"Fuckboy?"

Miyako shakes her head, rejecting my terminology. "Boyfriend. Or, at least, dating material?"

"No. And you're not the first to say that Yamato's a candidate boyfriend. Koushiro gave me an earful the other day."

"Then clearly it's a sign," Miyako replies. " _Well_?"

"Absolutely _no!_ Yamato seems to enjoy having fun and doing whatever he wants. He's at that stage in his life, and I-I'm not ready for anything. Besides, who knows if him and Jun have ended things-"

"Oh, they've always been like this...but they've stopped banging for over a month now. They're really good friends." Miyako teases me, "Does she _threaten_ you?"

I swear, if Miyako's smirk becomes wider I might end up punching her in the nose.

"There's no need to worry," Miyako reassures me, even though I don't need the reassuring at all. "Yamato's not interested in her in that way."

"I am _not_ worried!" I stress out. "All we did is sleep together. That's all. End of discussion!"

Miyako chuckles and I can't help but find myself chortling with her. She then studies me through her concerned, brown eyes.

"As much as I want you to hook up with Yamato on a long-term basis, this isn't you. It's out of your character to sleep with somebody just because you felt like it," Miyako says, studying my expression. "It's either you're committed or you're not interested. You might not be the best to read, but you're quite black and white whenever it relates to relationships. What made you do something this, uh, _spontaneous_?"

I sigh. "Why can't you leave this alone?"

"I'm your friend."

"Obviously a stubborn one," I quip back.

"You think that after I've got you talking after the past few weeks silence, I'd let you off the hook?" Miyako replies. "What's the deal with you, Sora?"

I sigh. Sometimes it's easier to tell Miyako than argue with her. I admit, "I think I may be going through a midlife crisis."

"How so?" She quirks an eyebrow.

"I don't know." I massage my temples, slowly exhaling out. "I've been feeling this for a while and now ever since I've struck the big three and zero. Everybody's moving on with their lives, moving forward and I...Miyako, I just feel like I'm left behind."

It's the least I could do for her. When Hikari and Mimi would spend time with their lover boys, Miyako and I would be the ones going out and exploring, hitting up the latest nightclub, having drinks and dancing the night away. She had kept me company whenever I'd need the plus one at a party, be that other person sitting next to me watching a movie (even if she disliked it), and even had went across the world to see me in Spain.

"Why?"

"I don't know."

Miyako proposes, "Then why don't you travel?"

"It's not like that this time..."

Every time I lose my stepping, my purpose - I need time to think for myself. I need to process what is going around me, my real reasons and goals. Yet, every time I do this to myself it's when people, in my life, take a step forward...and then I feel like I'm stuck behind. My last sporadic holiday had been because Miyako had gotten promoted, Takeru's latest kid's book had done well and Daisuke's restaurant had reached it's peak. It's almost like I get envious with my friends success because all I am...all I really am is just a retail worker - a traveler...or, as Miyako and many of my friends describes (including Taichi), an _escaper._

When I don't respond, Miyako speaks up, _"_ You'll find somebody, Sora."

"No, it's not that." I shake my head. "Maybe it's more about my career? All of you guys have stable jobs, have aims, and goals to achieve and I...I don't know what I'm aiming before. My future seems so bleak and unclear when I hang out with the gang, it becomes a blatant reminder that I'm stuck in lingo. And I even get bitter and jealous, when I should be happy for you all. It's never bothered me this much before, but I feel like I'm resentful that everybody is succeeding and has their life together, which obviously shows that I'm such a horrible friend."

"Things may be unclear with how they are right now, but you're _not_ a horrible friend," Miyako frowns. Her eyes are glazed, biting her bottom lip as if to stop herself from crying. "I don't like you doubting yourself like this, and I'm not used to this. If anything, I've always thought you've had it more together than anybody I've known. And, as a friend, you've been always there giving us support. You encouraged Taichi to get back on his feet after his last failed attempt to get into the international soccer league. You were there for Mimi when her parents went through a divorce. You were there for me when I didn't believe in myself that I could pass my grad year...so don't you _dare_ tell me you're a horrible friend, Sora."

I give her a tiny smile, placing a handkerchief into her hands, which she accepts. She blows into it and starts to cry.

"Thanks Miyako. Shouldn't I be the one breaking down? You don't need to do it for me," I say, touched. "At least I know that I'm a good friend despite my future career of flipping burgers until I reach retirement."

Miyako clicks her tongue. "I don't need your sarcasm right now."

I grin.

She glances at her watch and she immediately shoots up from the chair. "And that's my cue. I really should get going."

"Where are you off to?" I ask, but then I immediately read the look on her face and the uniform she is attired in. I grimace. "Night shift, huh?"

"Yeah," Miyako moans. "I actually went to drop my Mimi's to see if she was there, but she wasn't. It's a good thing I did because when I took the bus, I noticed that the lights were on in your store. I couldn't believe it when I saw that you were painting! Haha. Sora, you're really the jack of all trades, you know?"

"Is that a good thing?" I utter, uncertain.

"You may think we're all lucky and special because we've all got our own, mundane jobs...but you, Sora, whatever you set your mind to, you get it done. You've got knowledge stemming from all directions," Miyako compliments. She gazes around the store. "And you're a refurbishing queen too."

"It's keeping me out of bankruptcy," I reply. "I wasn't joking when I said I may be flipping burgers when I'm fifty. If I don't put effort into continuing to make this store run, I'll be jobless."

Miyako suggests, "You could always be my own personal coffee brewer. Your coffee-making is heavenly. I was disappointed when you offered me tea and not a coffee today."

"My apologies. Next time I'll make you a mean latte," I laugh. I put my hands on both of Miyako's shoulders and guide her towards the door.

She turns around and gives me a big, warm hug. "Just promise me that you won't be MIA too long. I miss you."

"I'll try."

Miyako scrunches up her eyebrows.

"Sure," I agree to her, hoping she'll get off my back. She settles for this answer, giving me a light kiss on the cheek before she leaves.

When Miyako's gone, there's a bounce in my step as I finish the last layer of paint. I feel chipper, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

Perhaps everybody's advice is right? Sometimes we _need_ to lean on other people. Everybody loses insight at some point in their lives. And right now, for me, it's one of those periods when my life is too overwhelming for me to handle on my own. I may be terrible at displaying my emotions to a certain degree, but I have friends who are there for me despite my mood swings.

I'm tired and breathless when I finally retire from the paint job. After I sit the roller onto the plastic tray of paint, I stretch my back and take a moment to step back and admire the work that I had done. Despite almost every muscle in my body aching, I'm quite pleased with the result.

However, the momentary happiness ceases when I hear my phone rings.

It's already nine in the evening? Nobody calls me at this time, except for my parents...but even these days they don't call me up this late and, yes, it's a sad life I live.

Taking out the phone from the smock pocket, my eyes widen when I see that it's Mimi's name flashing on the screen.

Didn't I tell Miyako that I needed time? I feel the phone vibrating for a couple more seconds. Should I answer it or not? It rings another time and I suppress a heavy sigh, unable to let the phone call ring out.

Before I speak into the receiver, a meek voice whispers.

"I'm sorry."

Mimi apologising is a rare case, however it's her frail, fragile voice that puts me on edge.

Scratching the back of my head, I reply. "Um...okay?"

 _Great reply, Sora. Great reply._

She, for some odd reason, avoids the dry satire in my tone and responds, "I'm not really sorry though. But I am."

"Alright…" I say, clearly bemused now. "What's wrong, Mimi?"

Although she isn't necessarily my favourite person right now, Mimi's still Mimi. She's still my best friend whether I like it or not and, well...she's sobbing on the receiving end.

It's not like I can _completely_ ignore her.

Mimi splutters frantically, "I can't do it anymore. I always say we'll break up to him, and that one time when I had texted him, he actually replied and said it was probably for the best? He said that we're over. And now...I-h-he hasn't spoken to me ever since! And you, you haven't either! I-Sora-I-what should I do?"

It doesn't add up. "What do you mean? Taichi and you are over? How long have you stopped talking for?"

"A week."

That's impossible. I can't even fathom that happening. These idiots really love each other and even when they do fight, they still manage to keep in contact with each other. But for _nothing_ to happen between the two of them for a week it's beyond strange _._ Maybe Mimi hadn't been exaggerating as much as I had thought her to be?

She's wailing. "Over text! He broke it off over text! And I don't know what to do. What should I-"

"You're cutting off," I say, hearing static. "Are you at home?"

When the line becomes clearer, I then start to hear other background noises coming from Mimi's end. There's lots of people talking, Reggae music and... _what?_ Mimi _despises_ Reggae music!

I ask what's on my mind. " _Where_ are you?"

Mimi cries. "I don't know. Some bar. I just can't stand being home at the apartment. Everything reminds me of him. At least, by the bay, I can forget about everything and-"

"The _bay_?" I repeat. "Tokyo Bay..? Hello? Mimi?"

My ears prickle even more when I hear a man speak up amongst the background noise.

"Here are the three cocktails you've ordered, Miss Tachikawa. Do you wish for another round?"

"Yes please. Vodka sunrises thanks-"

My eyes widen. The shoulders feel heavy yet again. I don't want to ask, but I do it anyway. "Mimi, where the hell are you? Who are you with?"

"I'm on my own," Mimi says, hysterically. "Because that's what I'm destined to be. _Alone_."

Now she's stealing my line. My stress level rises. "Mimi, I'm not joking anymore. _Where_ are you?"

"Okinawa," she finally replies.

It takes a while to sink in and when it does, I scream into the phone, " _Okinawa?"_

She whines, "Sora, don't yell at me!"

The island isn't even in central Japan anymore! She's on an island - an airplane away! A random, small island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

I close my eyes, trying to not let out a furious groan. Mimi and I are, somewhat, back on good terms and if I act rudely to her now, who knows what she'll do? Mimi intoxicated is never good news as liquor heightens her sensitivities and makes her difficult and unbearable to deal with. And the fact that she is on her own...

 _Oh no._

"Mimi," I say. "Listen to me. You need to come back home."

"This all his fault," Mimi says, angrily. She rambles on, "He said we'd go here to Okinawa one day, but it never happened because he's _always_ busy. If he's the one traveling all the time, so why can't I travel to? It's-"

I cut her off, "Come back to Tokyo, Mimi."

"NO!"

I warn, "Mimi-"

She hangs up the phone. Well, I can't tell if she's hung up the phone or if it's because of the bad connection. Either way, I try to contact her back and she's not picking up. Oh, what a headache. Maybe this is why I've strayed away from my friends. They're a pain in the butt. That's what!

What can I do? Should I even do anything? This is Mimi. She's an adult woman. She can look after herself. The things that she does to herself is her problem, not mine! This has _nothing_ to do with me. I should just leave this. I should- _no_. I _can't..._

Mimi being by herself in Okinawa _and_ drunk is a terrible combination. She's not responsible on her own. She can't...if something happens to her. Why am I worried? Why do I have to be the one always concerned about my idiot of a friend?

I resort to calling Taichi's phone. It goes to voicemail.

 _Great..._

"Argh!" I huff out, frustrated.

Tearing my smock off, I snatch my purse and storm out of the store. Miyako is right. I _am_ the Jack of all Trades, and right now my calling _happens_ to be a good friend…

And it sucks.

.

* * *

 **(a/n)** Sorry for the late update. I've been dormant because, like Miyako, I've been on night shifts and it has officially killed my soul. As for the next update...I don't know when it will be because I will be overseas for a good three weeks.

This is more of a filler chapter, which ended being longer than intended. There will be more action in the next one. What sort of action? Nothing too promiscuous, if that's what you're thinking. Haha.

Anyway, as per usual, thanks for reading this story. It's great to see new readers pop up along the way. Thank you!

P.S. Will reply to reviews tomorrow. Cheers. xox


	13. chapter thirteen: partners in crime

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter thirteen

 **p** artners **i** n **c** rime

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* * *

.

He's not at the bar near our old university. Not at the apartment he's been sharing with Mimi (which was a dumb decision on my end since they've been 'broken up' for a week). Not as his favourite soccer field. Not at work. Nor is he at Takeru or Hikari's place.

 _So where the hell is Taichi?_

I'm shivering as I stand on the street, clueless about what to do next. I'd call Yamato, but I don't have his number. Taichi's phone is still on voicemail. Miyako's working. Hikari and I aren't really on speaking terms. Daisuke wouldn't have any idea what's going on - he never does - and...Koushiro?

Stupid me.

I hail a cab and I supply the driver with Koushiro's home address, while multi-tasking and dialling Koushiro's phone number. Because the driver's driving rather recklessly, I slip my phone between my ear and shoulder, buckling up.

 _Answer the damn phone, Kou, or I'll kill you!_

Somebody answers, "Sora?"

"Please tell me Tai's with you, Kou, because I desperately need to kick that asshole in the balls!" I bark.

The taxi driver sends me an astounded look, as if not expecting for a woman to butcher the Japanese language. If males can get away for swearing and spewing out profanities, then why can't I?

"Yeah, he's with us."

It's Yamato's voice.

I angle my head, frowning because the last I had seen or spoken to him was when we had shared breakfast post our spontaneous affair.

And, since I'm _real_ mature, because I'm thrown off that Yamato's picked up Koushiro's phone, I resort to snapping at him instead, "What are you? A paging service?"

"Pardon me?" Yamato replies, amused. "Do we even use paging services in this time of age?"

"Whenever I call, why are you always answering the phone when it clearly doesn't belong to you?" I question him, stifling a sigh. I hear him let out a dry chuckle on the other side of the line. I continue to speak, "So Kou and you are with the idiot?"

"I guess you can say that."

"Can I speak to him?"

Yamato tries to clarify, "Koushiro or Taichi?"

"The idiot!"

"Tai's playing a video game with Koushiro at the moment. You know how they get when they're gaming. And Koushiro won't let Taichi go, now that he's in his zone-"

"I don't care if Koushiro's in his ' _zone'_ ," I exclaim, furiously. "Tell Koushiro to talk some sense into Taichi!"

"Is this about the break up?" Yamato snorts. "Takenouchi, calm down. Maybe it's best to leave Mimi and Taichi be for now. Perhaps they both need some space? Let them solve it themselves. We can't _always_ be there to solve their problems-"

"- _even_ with Mimi losing it and running off to Okinawa?" I interrupt him.

His tone is dull, "No way."

" _Yes_ way."

"Seriously?" Yamato groans.

"Exactly," I chide back. "Which is why we have no choice but to meddle now. If Mimi feels like it, she might even decide to stay there for eons if she gets comfortable. Where are you anyway?"

"At mine."

"Good," I reply. "I'll see you soon."

I hang up, redirecting my attention to the taxi driver. I raise my voice, "Change of plans. Can we head back the other direction? Towards Shinagawa? I'll pay you extra. Sorry sir."

The driver grunts in response and before he confirms that he's agreed to it, the car lurches around the curb, heading the opposite way. My stomach feels queasy as I rest my elbow on the bottom frame of the window, closing my eyes as the motion sickness suddenly heightens.

Me getting nauseated for both Taichi and Mimi's sakes better be worth it.

* * *

.

Yamato's pacing at the front when the taxi gets there. He's dressed in grey track-pants and a black hoodie. It's the most casual I've seen him in. He sees me and waves.

I pay the taxi driver, including the tip I had promised, and get out off the car.

When I'm a step away from the rockstar, he mutters, "I thought you'd get lost since you've only been to my place once. I tried calling you back on Kou's phone, but you weren't picking up."

"My memory is good at directions whenever I put my mind to it," I tell him.

I don't know how I remembered where Yamato lives, but after retracing the steps from the venue where Koushiro had his launch, I was able to recognise the apartment complex building.

Yamato glances at me challengingly, trying to gauge my expression. "But we're pretending nothing happened?"

We're not talking about me and my sense of direction anymore.

"Nothing happened," I confirm, I gaze down awkwardly.

I don't want him bringing it up, especially when the boys are here. Besides, there's nothing to talk about anyway. We had decided not to bring it up the morning post committing the deed.

"How long has Taichi been with you?" I switch back to the main topic. I lift my gaze and my eyes meet eyes. There's a glint in his eyes that's unreadable, that I can't make out or tell what he is thinking.

"A week. Takeru and Hikari dumped him to me, saying they have enough kids to deal with at home. It was the day after you caught him dead drunk and we rescued him from the bar-"

When Yamato realises what he's said, I could have sworn that he disguised a smirk. I give an inward groan, hoping that I didn't flinch or make an obvious reaction to his comment.

Although we're attempting to evade the fact that we've slept together, it appears that we naturally talk ourselves onto the touchy subject. And seeing Yamato, in the flesh like this, is hard because I still have the burning image of his hands roaming down my naked body from the week before _and_ it's been haunting me on a daily basis. Perhaps it isn't a touchy subject to Yamato, (because who knows how many women he sleeps with on his spare time?), but for me it's a big deal. He's the third person I've had sex with since I broke up my engagement with Sebastian.

Yamato coughs. "So did you come here to see Taichi?"

"Yes."

"I'll take you up then."

He stomps out a cigarette bud that he had, apparently, been smoking. I hadn't noticed it before, but I know I shouldn't be surprised. He's a celebrity, a rockstar, with a 'bad boy' image so adding tobacco to the mix shouldn't be that astonishing to me.

Yamato notices my stare. "Something you want to badmouth me about? Perhaps something amongst the lines of ' _smoking kills_ '?"

"No. I wasn't going to say anything." I sniff. "You're adult enough to make your own decisions."

"Oh, Sora, sometimes you don't realise how much you give yourself away just from how you act," he chuckles.

"You should be protecting your voice if you want to continue your career." I roll my eyes.

I make my way to the elevator so that we're not wasting any more time. We go inside it and after Yamato swipes the card and presses his floor number in, he leans back onto the steel wall and says, "It's only one of my bad habits when I'm stressed. There's no need to worry."

"I'm not worrying. I'm just _saying_." I grumble. I tuck my hands into my coat pockets, "I wouldn't have thought that somebody like you would get stressed anyway. You're rich."

"Nice observance skills. You should be a detective," Yamato deadpans. He even starts obnoxiously clapping, but stops because as we reach the designated level I'm simultaneously pushing him out of the elevator.

He cranes his neck over to me as I follow behind him. "If it helps, I've had a rough week - and Taichi's presence has added to its horrendousness. Do you know how suffocating it can be when the idiot's trapped under your roof? "

"I can only imagine. At least you've been the better friend. Mimi's only reached out to me now." As Yamato's about to unlock the door to his apartment, I hold him back for a second. "How bad is he?"

"Bad," Yamato scornfully supplies. He turns the doorknob, gesturing me to go in. "Ladies first."

Shaking my shoes off, I enter his place before him. "You're clearly inviting me to hell if you're this eager to let me go first."

"It makes for better company. I can't deal with it alone." He mumbles, "We're partners in crime anyway."

"I'd like to ditch that title. I don't want to partake in any crimes tonight. I've got enough on my plate."

He sarcastically reprimands me, "Don't be like that. We're a joined allied force that's main priority is to put two parties back together before they execute each other."

"Too bad one of them _happens_ to be over a wide stretch of ocean." I sigh, "What movies have you been watching, Yamato? Clearly you haven't been listening to those typical soundtracks if you're coming up with stories like these?"

Yamato's trying to make light of everything, saying lame jokes and whatever he can come up with - and I can't be bothered to deal with his shit. My muscles are still aching from having painted the whole store.

I stalk into the living room and, sure enough, I see the back of Koushiro's head and next to him is Taichi's bush of a head.

"Taichi!" I yell.

He doesn't move, continuing to focus on the monitor in front of him as I hear his fingers rapidly press on the buttons of the game controller.

Koushiro turns around instead. His eyebrows furrow in puzzlement. "Sora? How do you know where Yamato lives? In fact, how did you get here-"

"Taxi," I reply, disgruntled. "He texted me the address because I need to speak to Taichi."

"Funny because I only gave Yamato your phone number yesterday." Koushiro's eyes dart between me and Yamato in suspicion.

I shoot Yamato a glance who gives me a mere sheepish shrug in response. If Yamato is asking Koushiro for my number, then he clearly isn't listening to what we had agreed on about keeping our distance and not letting any of our friends know. Either way, this would have to wait.

Hands on my hips, I demand, "Turn off the game."

Koushiro weakly backs away. "I'm not playing it anymore. It's Taichi. He's up to the last level-"

"I don't care." I stride towards the sofa chairs, snatching the remote from the glass table. I squat down so that Taichi looks me in the eye, holding it in front of him threateningly.

Taichi grunts, trying to kick me out of the way, angling his body so that can gain a better position to see what's going on in the monitor. "Go away, Sora."

"I'm going to turn the damn television off if you don't listen to me!" I growl, fuelled with anger.

He continues to play.

"TAICHI!"

He keeps ignoring me.

This doesn't sit well with me. I turn off the television and push him back against the sofa, grabbing him by the collar. My vacant hand is raised, about to slap him, but Koushiro has lunged in and holds my arm back before it can connect with Taichi's face.

I seethe, "Fix it, Yagami!"

"Fix what?" He leers back at me.

"You _fix_ this." I breathe out, letting go of my grip on his collar. "You've driven her to Okinawa."

"What?! _Okinawa_?" Koushiro gasps, and Yamato gives a blunt nod to confirm that he hadn't been hearing things.

Taichi looks away from me. Since I've attacked him in a blind rage, it's only now that I realise the close details up front that Taichi's not doing well at all. His hair is messier than usual - even greasy, eyes pink and bloodshot, signs of stubble on his chin (which is weird since he's normally cleanly shaved) and _boy_ does he reek. No wonder Yamato's had a bad week if he has a living stink-bomb in his home space.

His face is grim, but he at least replies, "Oh...well...good for her. If that's what makes her happy."

"You're being really difficult right now, Taichi," I snap, not accepting his answer. "Is that all you have to say?"

"What do you _expect_ me to say?" He scowls, defeatedly. "She's the one who wanted the break."

I mutter, "And you believe her? Mimi breathes on melodrama. She's your girlfriend. Don't you already know that she likes lying to get you to react to what she says?"

"I'm tired of it."

"Aren't we all?" Koushiro says in a soft voice. I send him a withering look for contributing nothing to this current situation.

"So...then what, Tai?" Yamato snorts. "If you're saying that you're tired of it all, then what's your plan of action? You should be up and moving by now if you don't care. And I would, kindly, appreciate if you stop lounging around all day, in my apartment, feeling sorry for yourself. Get your shit together, man."

I glare at Yamato. Both of them aren't helping at all.

If this is how Yamato's been talking to Taichi all week, no wonder there hasn't been any progression with Taichi and Mimi making amends with each other. Then again, what am I to know? I'm trying to voice my opinions to Taichi, but nothing seems to be getting to him. Yamato's approach is different, and perhaps he's getting Taichi annoyed to actually get his act together? I'm willing to try anything that will work.

The more we push Taichi on edge, the more difficult he is getting. Since he's a stubborn-head, he's born to retaliate...so perhaps I should try a different approach?

Sitting next to him, I place a hand over his. "Taichi. Are you sure? She loves you, you know?"

He closes his eyes. "I know…I'm just so tired of the games. I'm tired of the fighting-"

"Then why can't you be honest with her? What's stopping you?" I say. "The two of you have been together since forever and breaking up over text doesn't resolve anything. You owe it to her to at least tell it to her face to face how you've been feeling."

"Besides, you guys aren't like this. You fight, then you make up." Koushiro adds rationally, "Statistically speaking, I believe that you're more prone to get back together. I give it a two percent chance that the two of you actually separate for good. Therefore, you have a likely advantage of getting back together."

Well, at least Koushiro's trying. I catch Yamato holding back a laugh.

"You need to speak to her and _properly_ Taichi. Sometimes Mimi just wants clarification that you're both heading the same direction. How can she talk and spend time with you if you're always overseas more than home? You're never around."

"It's my job." Taichi reasons out, "I'm not _alway_ s away. Am I?"

Koushiro clears his throat and Yamato shakes his head. "You're away most of the time, Tai."

"But it's my job to be overseas…"

He's still not understanding the situation.

I frown. "Don't lump Mimi on the same page as your job. If your career's more important to you, then why stay with Mimi? She can't wait forever. You're being selfish, Taichi. If you keep dragging your relationship on this way-I...I-wouldn't it best to break up with her?"

I can't believe I'm saying this. I've always loved Taichi and Mimi together, and I know Taichi's job makes him happy...but if he preferred his career over my best friend, I'd rather them not to be together at all.

"Well?" I arch an eyebrow at him.

"I...I couldn't do that."

Yamato prods, "Then?"

Taichi pauses and stares up at me, jaw dropping. It's like he hasn't thought about this before as a wave of clarity dawns on his face. "No...you're right…I'm an idiot! You're a genius, Sora!"

I point out, "Technically that would be Koushiro and-"

He leans forward and kisses me on the cheek.

"I'm sorry," I blink, but I'm trying not to smile as I bat him out of the way. I say, sardonically, "Did I ever advise you to fall in love with me instead? Because, well, I'm just not that into you, Yagami-"

Taichi runs his hand through his hair and stands up. "I-I need to go!"

"Where to?" Koushiro questions. Although I know Taichi's rift with what he's decided, Koushiro still hasn't been able to comprehend what has just happened.

"Okinawa!" Taichi shouts. "No..where's the, I- I need to book tickets. And-"

"I've already booked them," Yamato says, noncommittally, lips pursed in a smirk.

I laugh. "What? How?"

"Before you got here," Yamato fills me in. "If you weren't going to convince him, I would have drugged his drink and sent him to the airport myself."

I'm about to reply, but he holds a finger to indicate that he'll be back in a second. And in a minute, Yamato's rolling out a small suitcase. "Use this. Hurry up, Taichi. The flight leaves in three hours."

"Oh! Right!" Taichi says. He starts to strip in front of me and it's when he's only in his briefs that he realises that he doesn't have a new set of clothing to change into. "Can I borrow some clothes, Yamato?"

I roll my eyes, pushing Taichi down the hallway and into the bathroom. "Have a shower first. You stink, Yagami."

When I return to the living room, Yamato is already packing Taichi's suitcase and Koushiro is gaping at us, absolutely bewildered how a simple boys night at Yamato's had drastically turned into something he had never anticipated.

Koushiro gawks, "I don't even know how to keep up with you guys anymore. Here, I was certain, that Taichi was going through one of the worst moments in his life and you-you've turned the tables around-"

"I wouldn't leap to that conclusion until they both reconcile," I mutter.

Yamato points out, "Which is a ninety-eight percent likability, just like you stated, Koushiro."

I collapse into a fit of laughter.

* * *

.

"Stay for dinner." He's blocking me from leaving. "I make a mean curry rice."

"Really?" I remark. "Is this going to be a pattern? After every time disaster strikes, will you cook me some food?"

"Food is like air. You need it to survive," Yamato says. "And I owe you a favour for getting Taichi out of my house. Consider it my way of saying thanks."

I want to leave, but my hunger is keeping me from going home. Asides from the cookies and teas with Miyako, I haven't eaten all day. It's been quite the emotional ride. First Miyako, then Mimi and prompting Taichi to chase after her had taken a lot of my energy. Even as I had been talking some sense into Taichi, I had felt my stomach churning, readying to eat itself out.

Leaving now would mean I'd have to get another taxi home, cook for myself or hunt for the closest Family Mart. And right now, none of these options seem attractive because I'm completely and utterly exhausted.

"Fine," I mumble. I slip off my shoes again, ambling back into the apartment. "I'm only agreeing to this because you made a great breakfast last time and I want to see if you can live up to your reputation by making something more challenging."

"Piece of cake," Yamato brags. "Even Mimi compliments my culinary skills."

"I'll be the judge of that," I sigh.

I drop onto the sofa that had been earlier occupied by Koushiro and Taichi, lying down on it. Yamato had, somehow, smoothly talked Koushiro into driving Taichi to the airport, which was a good break for us.

Flicking through the channels, I leave it on a sports channel that's displaying rookies playing a tennis match. I tediously watch the screen, but I'm not really paying attention. "How long will you be?"

"Five minutes," Yamato responds. "I'm only heating it up because it's leftovers from last night."

"And I thought you were making it from scratch."

"If you want to wait longer for dinner, be my guest."

"I am your guest," I state, pouting. I rub my stomach. "And I am hungry."

Yamato complains, "Remind me why I asked you to stay in the first place?"

"Because we're partners in crime."

He laughs, redirecting his focus back to the meal he is preparing. "How hot do you want it?"

"Mild."

"Weak," Yamato insults me.

The smell of the curry gets me standing as I wander over to the kitchen. I eye him eagerly prepare our meal, peeking over his shoulder as he adds more spices to his bowl. His eyes drift down to me, "Do you think I'm poisoning you?"

"I just find it weird when guys cook who _aren't_ chefs." I slide away from him, pulling out two glasses from one of the kitchen drawers and filling them up with tap water. "My dad's a horrible cook, therefore seeing you do this isn't something I quite imagined you to do."

Yamato smiles. "I wouldn't say I'm the best, but I do pride myself on my cooking. My father, he was horrible at it too...and when my parents divorced, I found myself being the one cooking for the both of us. It was difficult at first, but then I found it quite therapeutic…"

"Why are you talking about cooking like it's some form of meditation?" I say. I bring the glasses to the dining table, then go back to the kitchen to grab two sets of cutlery. I murmur on, "I think it's dangerous. Boiling water and getting scorching oil splattered on me scares the hell out of me."

We take a seat at the dining table and I salivate at the aroma. I don't need to take a mouthful of the curry rice to say that it's good. My tastebuds are dancing as I savour the flavours in my mouth. Yamato's cooking really does hit the spot.

"You make a better housewife than a musician. Have you ever considered changing your career?"

Yamato snorts. "Like you've even listened to the songs I've ever composed."

"I have-"

"Name one."

 _Busted._

"Er...I can't think of one on the spot," I defend myself, even though we both know that I'm lying. I don't know if it's for the curry, or for being caught for lying, but I suddenly feel my temperature rise. I take off my coat, wrapping it around the chair that I'm sitting on.

Yamato shoots me a shocked gaze from across the table. His cheeks are puffed up from the mouthful of water he was about to swallow. When he does manage to down the water, he splutters out, "I...I didn't know you were into cosplaying. Is that your secret fetish?"

" _Cosplaying_?" I repeat, confused.

I look down at what I'm wearing and I feel a vigorous blush appear on my face. I had rushed out of work, after Mimi had called me, without thinking that I'd be going anywhere else. The maid outfit that I had been wearing all day, to lure customers in, was still on.

Yamato keeps scrutinising at me with an amused expression spread across his face. I want to die.

"No!" I exclaim. "It was for work!"

He winks. "Don't worry. I won't tell anybody."

"Yamato!" I hiss. "Stop joking around. I'm serious. I only wore it today to get more customers."

"What customers _exactly_ were you aiming for?"

"You're such a jerk!" I cry out, but he's guffawing at my reaction. Although I'm trying to reason out, he's still blatantly staring at my outfit without any signs of shame. I throw my coat back on, buttoning it up, despite my cheeks burning.

"And you look good in it."

 _Again..._ Yamato's flirting with me and I don't like where it's going. I've been letting it slide, but he keeps picking on me and I don't like it when he does. Sure, it's fun...but not when your emotions are at line and all your friends are mutual. There's a reason why I don't date or have fun with guys inside my circle of friends. Things get sticky. (I mean, take Taichi and Mimi for example!). I've already told Yamato that nothing is going to happen between us. I cemented it with him last week. And, well, we've already screwed up by sleeping with each other - and I don't want that mistake to happen again.

I need to tackle this before it gets out of control. I gaze across him over the wooden table, steadying my voice as I speak up to him, "Why'd you ask Koushiro for my number?"

"We're friends, aren't we?" Yamato shrugs, but there's an underlying defensiveness in his tone.

However, it's not a good enough answer for me. Sure, we are ' _officially_ ' friends now. But friends ask for each other's numbers and don't sneakily take it from somebody else. I'm happy with my friendship with Yamato and I don't want anything more from it.

I reply, "We need to be careful. Koushiro...he's already on to us. That night-it was a mistake. And I, I'm not like you, Yamato. I don't like broadcasting my sexual escapades around. I don't just go around sleeping with _anybody_. I like my love and sex life to be kept quiet."

He raises an eyebrow at me. "I don't play around. Perhaps when I was younger, but not now. Also, I most definitely do _not_ fancy broadcasting my sex life around either. If anything, it's the media that assumes who I am."

"Then what about Jun?"

"I told you, Sora," he says. "Jun and I are over. We've been over for a long time."

"Right," I reply, not knowing what else to say him. The dinner doesn't taste as good as it initially was, seeing as I'm reminding myself to chew before swallowing the rice.

 _Good job, Sora. Way to make it awkward..._

Yamato breaks the silence, "At least we know that they'll be back together. We make a good duo."

"We sure do," I give a small smile, dabbing the sides of my mouth with a serviette. "I'd better go. With work tomorrow morning and all-"

"Sure."

We both stand up at the same time. I praise him, "Thanks for the delicious meal."

He's ambling by my side, but I gesture him that he should stay back. "I can see myself out."

Yamato ignores me and follows me to the entrance. He watches me put my shoes on and as I'm about to lift a hand to wave, I keep it my hand down to my side as I gaze soundlessly back at him. But waving at him doesn't cut it. If I wave, it makes it feel more awkward as I'm usually more affectionate to my friends.

 _But is Yamato a new friend?_

Nevertheless, I concede to stepping forward and giving him a parting hug.

He goes in for a kiss on the cheek. The sensation of his lips lingering on my skin makes me tingle. And, for some reason, I'm not ready to let go of him yet. My arms are still around his waist as I stare up at him. I can feel his soft breathing against my chest as he tightens his arms around me. Yamato looks down, pooling blue eyes daring me to make the next move.

So I do.

I place a hand around his neck, forcefully bringing his head down as my lips crash against his.

.

* * *

 **(a/n)** A long chap to make up for my long absence. xox Thanks for reading :)


	14. chapter fourteen: a little secret

_._

.

.

 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter fourteen

 **a** **l** ittle **s** ecret

 _._

 _._

* * *

.

My eyes slowly open.

Have I travelled back in time? The walls in this bedroom are plastered with band posters. This places looks like it belongs to a teenager. However, there's also an acoustic guitar sitting on a stand by the window - something I can make out as the morning light filters dimly through the curtains. I'm definitely not at home.

The bottom of my back is aching, so I try to change my position to relieve the pain. Although I want to move, I find that my body is stuck in this position because something or _someone_ is hindering me from moving.

As the person exhales besides me, I feel his warm chest resonate against my body. And it's then that I realise that I'm nude and the person I've shared the bed with is keeping me warm. Peeking under the tangled bedsheets, I see his hand on my hip, securing me down in this fixed position.

Piecing two and two together, I don't need to shuffle back to see whose arms I'm lying in. And I don't even have the energy to blush or feel flustered.

I'm _absolutely_ spent.

Memories from last night swirl in my mind. I don't even feel embarrassed anymore because I've passed the stage of embarrassment with him. He had me moaning and whimpering his name when he'd shove into me, and I remember hearing his gasps when I switched it up a notch and rode on top of him. The two of us hadn't taken it easy at all. I had lost count how many times I had climaxed after he had went down on me. We had been so riled up in lust that it's a mystery that either of us had remembered how to breathe.

A week has past by and we had already messed up our agreement of not doing it again. It's partly...well - maybe _mostly -_ my fault that we've come to this, but it's not like he was willing to stop either. We're adult enough to make our own decisions; even if we're prone to making stupid ones.

God, I'm a slut. I'm such a disgrace. It's just sexual attraction, I tell myself. It's just because you haven't been laid for a while, and it's cathartic and you _needed_ it. I _also_ tell myself….and it's because Yamato is _fucking_ good in bed.

 _Ding Dong_

My body stiffens when I hear the bell. Yamato groans as he stirs awake. I put more effort into moving away from his grasp this time, turning onto my side to see his startled face staring back at me.

He places an arm behind his head, the blank expression on his face disappearing as his lips begin to form a lazy smile. "Morning."

Just kill me… _Now._

Stay for dinner? _Puh-lease._

I don't know how I feel about it, but at least Yamato isn't completely poking fun at the situation we're in since we've equally both screwed up. I also don't want this to be taken lightly either because if we keep doing this, I don't want to be deemed as one of his sexual conquests. _No thank you_.

I raise an eyebrow, attempting to stay cool about it. "Well, aren't you going to make me breakfast?"

That one sentence sends him laughing.

The other time we had slept together, Yamato had already been out of bed making us pancakes to patently evade the awkwardness, but this time we've actually woken up together in a lover's embrace.

And it's only now I've realised that we're _still_ in this position, I crumple the top sheet over my body, sitting up.

"No need for modesty, Takenouchi."

I kick him under the sheets.

 _Ding Dong! Ding Dong! Ding Dong!_

"Somebody's impatient," Yamato scowls.

"Answer the door then."

He grumbles as he gets up, tossing on the shirt and boxers he had on last night. I cringe when I glimpse the long trails of nail scratches I had left on his broad back.

Before he leaves, he steps towards me and tucks a strand of hair away from my face, caressing my cheek. "I'll be back."

 _Danger._

I look up at him, fleetingly. Does he _want_ to screw around even more? Haven't we done enough damage?

I throw a pillow at him just before he escapes the room. It rebounds off his body, falling onto the floor. He glances back at me and sees my incredulous stormy look, but merely chuckles at my reaction. _Good._ He's joking. The ass really knows how to mess with me…

Glancing at the digital clock, I groan when I see the time. Work starts in an hour. I won't have time to go home and go to work straight after.

I see Yamato's phone sitting by the bedside table and, without permission, I use it to dial my work number. I leave a message on the answering machine that I'll be running late. Taeko-san still hasn't bought herself a cellphone, so sending a message on the work's landline is the best way to get in contact with her.

From all the calories I had burnt off with Yamato last night, I'm lucky to have woken up this early. I had been scared that it was already midday when I had opened my eyes. But, now that I think about it, _who_ is Yamato's guest? Who bothers visiting somebody's place at eight in the morning?

"Yo! _Onii-chan_."

Well, that explains it.

Hearing Takeru's voice floating to the bedroom, makes me want to hide under the bedsheets in shame. I'm definitely staying in bed until Yamato's younger brother leaves.

"What are you, a yankee?" Yamato gives a strangled sigh. "Why are you talking like that for? In fact, _why_ are you here?"

They keep talking for a few minutes or so. I had never known the two were this close. Then again, Yamato does go out of his way to babysit Takeru's children once a week. Since I'm an only child, I had always wanted a siblings, and listening to the pair interact is kind of cute.

Takeru begins to hysterically chortle, "What is _this_?"

"Put that down, Takeru!" Yamato groans.

"Didn't realise you find maid outfits kinky, Yamato."

"Shut up."

 _Oh. My. God._

Takeru's holding my maid costume!

I had left all my clothing in the living room! In the middle of our heated session, I vaguely remember Yamato peeling me out of my clothing in an excruciatingly slow manner. He had pulled apart the ribboned corset and tossed it over the sofa before he carrying me, bridal style, into his bedroom. I had remembered giggling so much at the gesture, and the way his mouth had quirked at my laughter, when he had tossed me on top of his bed.

Anyway, back to what's happening... _shit!_

"And here I was checking to see if you're coping fine, but it looks like you've kept yourself distracted in the meantime." Takeru asks suspiciously, "Who's the special girl?"

"Nobody."

Good one, Yamato. Great answer. Way to make it _not_ obvious. But I wonder if Takeru's right. Although it was me who initiated it last night, has Yamato been sleeping with me as a distraction? I frown. Distraction from _what?_

"Nobody? _Right._ I'm just going to pretend that this lacy bra belongs to an invisible entity," Takeru snorts.

I wince.

For some reason, Takeru seems like the older brother on patrol. He's searching thoroughly through Yamato's apartment as if he's trying to find every source of evidence to use against his older brother - presumably for blackmail for future humiliations. I'm just crossing my fingers that he doesn't walk into the bedroom.

"Been smoking too, huh?" The joking tone has disappeared in Takeru's voice. "This is why I'm checking on you because you're always in the worst of state this time of the year."

Yamato grits out, "Takeru...can you _stop_?"

I vaguely remember an ashtray that was sitting on the dining table. It must be what Takeru's referring to. Last night, I even do recall Yamato getting antsy about me questioning his smoking habit. And, right now, Yamato seems to be rather uptight and defensive over it again now that Takeru's brought it up again.

"Hasn't the old man taught you something? I know you're only doing it because it's his death anniversary, but giving your tributes to his passing by smoking isn't the way to do it either!" The younger man scolds him.

I feel guilty for listening in on their conversation, but there's nothing more I can do. I'm stuck here until Takeru leaves.

It's not often that I hear Takeru getting worked up over something considering he's always fooling and joking around. In fact, this is possibly the only time I've heard Takeru mention his father since he died five years ago from lung cancer. Because I had only met Yamato recently, I had forgotten that they both had the same father and, now that I think about it, Yamato has never really spoken up or ever raised a conversation about his father to me.

Yamato sighs. "I'm not smoking my life away. It's only when I'm stressed and-"

"Yes, of course." Takeru cuts him off, "You didn't come to the cemetery yesterday. Mother and I were waiting for you. You forget you're not the only one suffering here. Dad was important to all of us, and we're here to listen if you need us to, Yamato."

Yamato says, "You didn't know him as well as I did, Takeru. And mother, she _left_ him. Why would I want to talk to _her_ about it?"

"I may not have lived with dad. I may not have been close to him as you was. And mother - although she left him - it doesn't mean she wasn't distressed by his death either. He used to be an important person in her life," Takeru said, quietly. "But you need to remember that dad...he was my father too, you know? And I-I was worried. You haven't been replying to me at all this week. I needed to see if you were fine."

"I'm good."

" _Right_ ," Takeru replies, sarcastically.

Yamato bluntly apologises, "I'm sorry."

It may not have been the complete response Takeru wanted, but he changes the subject. "You're at least coming for the monthly dinner tonight?"

"With the dragon?"

Takeru protests, "Mother _isn't_ a dragon."

"She definitely is," Yamato quips back.

"Alright. Maybe _sometimes_ she can be a bit of one. At least you're not completely ignoring us if you're coming out tonight. It's good to see you breathing, anyway." Takeru concludes, "I'll head off now and leave you to your sexy times."

Yamato denies, "I'm _no_ t-"

"As much as I'd love to investigate your bedroom to see who this woman is, I've got responsibilities to do." Takeru says, "I'll see you another time. Have fun."

In replacement of a ' _good bye'_ Yamato mutters to his brother, "Shut up."

I hear the door shut, followed with footsteps heading towards me. Sitting up, I watch Yamato enter the room. He's shaking his head at nobody in particular but when he notices me he scratches the back of his head, a sly smile spreading across his lips.

"What?" I blink.

He drawls, "Forgot there was a fiery goddess in my bed."

I grab another pillow and throw it at him, which he narrowly misses. At the end of the bed, he plops down the maid outfit, my lingerie and coat. I raise an eyebrow at him questioningly, and he shrugs. He goes through his wardrobe and pulls out a loose shirt and track-pants.

"Did you want to shower?"

"Yeah."

"I've got a spare towel here somewhere," Yamato proceeds to go through a drawer on the opposite side of the room. He's acting like it's all normal despite me potentially having heard what Takeru had spoken to him about.

When I don't answer him, he turns around and examines the expression on my face. "Aren't you going to say something?"

"About what?" I question him.

"You heard all of that, didn't you?"

"Of course I did," I admit. I'm not going to lie about it when Yamato had left the door open. "I wasn't going to bring it up because I hate prying, and it's not my business anyway."

Yamato says, quietly, "That's all you're going to say?"

"To be honest," I reply. "I don't know _what_ to say. Nobody around me has ever passed away. I can't even provide good advice-"

"I'm _not_ asking for advice," Yamato mutters, bitterly. "But at least you're not saying that you're sorry for me and giving me a pity party. I really hate it when people do that. Whenever anybody finds out that my father has passed away, all they do is swamp me with unnecessary condolences."

"I don't know." I shrug. "Perhaps I would too if you were somebody else. But, for some reason, I knew you wouldn't like it. I don't know."

"Really?"

"Yes," I respond, softly. "You're kind of prickly. You only reveal things about yourself that you _want_ to reveal. And it's not like you ever brag that you're a musician and what you've accomplished. I almost forgot that Takeru and you have the same father..."

"Talking about my father isn't something I like doing." Yamato resorts to taking the clothing and towel into the bathroom for me. I can tell he doesn't like talking about this, just from his rigid movements and how tensed up his shoulders have become.

"You don't have to," I reassure him. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to. And, it's understandable. It's upsetting; which is only normal for you to feel this way. Especially when your father was a really nice man."

Yamato raises an eyebrow at me, coming back inside the bedroom. "You knew him?"

"I met him at Hikari and Takeru's engagement. He was really excited about them getting married. He even let me in on a secret that he always thought that you were going to marry Taichi first."

"Trust my dad to strike a joke about me and Taichi to a stranger," Yamato groans, but he's smiling now. "Sorry I wasn't there to stop with his meddling."

"Weren't you there?"

Yamato grimaces in regret. "Was on a tour with the band."

Another reason why Yamato and I haven't met until recently.

He turns around, gesturing for me to go the bathroom. Even though he's seen me naked, he's still being gentleman enough not to look at me as I get out of the bed.

I reply, "At least you made it to the actual wedding. I still feel bad about not going."

Yamato murmurs, "I guess we can be equally awful together."

"Even if I'm a great distraction?" I touch his shoulder as I walk past. I don't wait for his answer as I stride into the bathroom.

Yamato weakly chuckles. "You're not a distraction."

He closes the bathroom door for me.

Even though it's not the right time and place to do it, I'm smiling. I switch the shower-head on and when it reaches a nice temperature, I duck under it. Water disperses over me and I let out a deep sigh, as I attempt to release the fatigue from my body.

If I'm not a distraction...then _what_ am I? Why am I here? Why did I screw up again?

The more I get entwined I get into Yamato's life, the more sticky the situation will be. I need to end this. I can't be involved with him because things won't turn out well. Our friends will know and then it'll be one gigantic catastrophe.

 _We're awful together_.

Even he has said it himself - although I _may_ be taking it into a literal sense.

* * *

.

After the speed shower, I pull on the track pants and shirt. Noticing a hair-dryer, I quickly help myself to it and when it's mostly dry, I use my fingers to comb through the knots so that I, at least, look presentable.

Yamato's already placed my maid outfit in a spare plastic bag on top of the now made bed. I pick it up and head down the hallway, letting my nose guide me to the smell of pancakes. Half in a daze I sit myself at the kitchen counter, helping myself to a pancake. Since I'm already going to be late, I might as well fill my stomach with something.

There's a cup of coffee next to my stack of pancakes. Like popcorn, pancakes must be Yamato's easy-to-make list. He's standing by the stove, flipping another pancake when I take a bite.

Somebody whistles a tune.

It's high and piercing. The tune is jolly and odd. I look up at Yamato and he gazes back at me.

"It's not me," I tell him. "And if it's not you..."

Yamato shoots a glimpse at the hallway. He's mid-way running towards the direction, but he doesn't make it in time.

My mouth gapes when I exchange looks with the newcomer. His eyes are bright blue, similar to Yamato's. However, they don't belong to Yamato at all. They belong to…

"TAKERU!?"

" _SORA?_!"

My face reddens and I catch Yamato in the background, flinching at what he's just witnessed with a spatula in hand.

"Oh!" Takeru bursts out, " _Ohhhh!_ "

Yes. This is _exactly_ why I never like being involved with a mutual friend. Things get sticky like the darn maple syrup that's running down my hands. Takeru is one of the _last_ people I want to see right now.

I stare back at Yamato's younger brother. His eyes are glinting with mischievousness, astonishment and amusement.

"Don't you have responsibilities?" Yamato speaks up first.

Takeru grins, reaching over the kitchen counter and in the process makes sure to give me a blatant look as he snatches up a brown, leather wallet that's sitting besides my steaming coffee.

"I left my wallet."

 _Argh!_

The younger man makes a show to scrutinise both Yamato and I. A smirk forming on his lips, he berates, "Did I interrupt _something_?"

This time Yamato keeps silent, glancing at me and waiting for me to answer. I send him a murderous look back. If it was a night when we had gotten drunk and went to a mutual party, it would have been easier. However, this is the second time and if I say that I 'slept over' because it was too late at night - that would be utter bullshit of a lie too - especially when nobody else is around and, well, it's darn obvious what we had done. Takeru would have to be an idiot _not_ to see what's in front of him.

Even if I am too make an excuse, it's too late. He knows.

Miyako I can tell, but Takeru….it's another story. His endless gloating and teasing sometimes is worse than Taichi because of his _creative_ passive-aggressive remarks.

"Wait until I tell Hikari about this!"

I warn him, " _Don't._ "

He peers at the maid outfit inside the plastic bag. "So you're Yamato's current vixen? And to think that you actually _own_ a maid outfit, Sora. All this time I thought you were the Mother Mary out of the pack."

"Fuck off," Yamato curses.

"But it's true, isn't it? Maybe that's why you're so intrigued, _onii-chan_? You know what they say?" He smirks. "You can never judge a book by its cover."

"Takeru," I snap. "I'm going to _kill_ you."

"I don't think you will since I know both of your little secrets now-"

I punch him in the gut. He doubles back, laughing. "Fine, fine! I'll go. I'll leave you two in peace."

"Don't tell anybody, Takeru," Yamato threatens, tiredly.

Takeru only guffaws in response, waving at us as he retracts from me punching him again, turning on his heel as he makes his way for Yamato's front door.

I swivel off the chair, picking up my bags and wrapping the coat around my frame. I flitch another pancake from the stack and when Yamato catches me chasing after Takeru down the hallway he calls after me. "Leaving already?"

"Somebody has got to talk to him." I respond. "Besides, I need a lift."

"I was going to drive you."

I shake my head, "I'll make Takeru take me. I need to speak to him to make sure he doesn't say anything to anybody."

"Good luck," Yamato replies. "I'm already holding up the white flag. My brother is a conniving one."

"Oh, I know he is," I sigh. Putting my shoes on, I give a Yamato an awkward wave. Without a second thought, I brush a strand that is falling into Yamato's eyes away from his face. I could have sworn his breathing hitched. I reassure, "Don't worry. I'll keep him quiet, Yamato."

Before Yamato can reply, I'm dashing out of his apartment. I make it into the elevator Takeru's in as the doors close behind me.

Takeru crosses his arms, studying me with a smirk. "And I expected more from you, Sora."

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* * *

 **(a/n)** Thanks for reading! This chapter actually wasn't meant to exist. Haha.

Anyway...I will reply to the reviews tomorrow. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	15. chapter fifteen: thrilling mistakes

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter fifteen

 **t** hrilling **m** istakes

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When I slide shotgun into Takeru's green Subaru sedan, he bows lowly on his seat to greet me.

I would have never thought I'd come to ever say this...but I _hate_ Takeru.

He straightens up, smirk apparent on his lips as he addresses me, "It's an honour to have you here."

"Likewise," I murmur, holding back a sigh. This is going to be a _long_ ride. Perhaps I should have taken Yamato's offer about him driving me to work. "Can we stop by a UNIQLO?"

"Isn't your appearance already presentable?" Takeru mocks, wriggling his eyebrows. Although I've got my coat covering me, he knows I'm wearing Yamato's clothing underneath.

I hiss at him, folding my arms together and leaning back against the seat.

Realising that I've chosen not to reply, he chuckles. "Fine. I'll take you there. After that, I'll even be a gentleman and drop you off at your workplace."

"Do you have _this_ much time to kill?" I mutter.

I have to give Takeru credit for checking up on Yamato on their father's death anniversary. However, Takeru doesn't have to feel obligated to keep me company while I fish for something to wear at the department store.

Takeru mightn't have the stereotypical profession of a nine to five job, but he still has work to do. He usually has quarterly drafts due throughout the year. And I do remember that during this time, last year, prior to his daughter's birthday he had a deadline. This means, he's probably under the pump right now, and if he's trying to find reasons not to do work he's-

"I'm procrastinating," Takeru grins, completing my train of thought. "But I'll get it done. I want any excuse to take a breath of fresh air. I'm sick of being in my stuffy house all day."

"So you decided to take upon yourself to prying into other people's businesses instead?"

"You sacrificed yourself when I caught you red-handed with my brother, Sora," Takeru reprimands. "Don't blame me for the sins you've committed."

I sniff. "You're not longer my favourite."

"Don't lie." Takeru smirked. "Koushiro always has been."

I laugh, "Because he's not annoying like the rest of you are."

Takeru and I have always gotten along. When I was introduced to Hikari via Taichi, Takeru had come along with the package. He's one of the few I've warmed up to instantly. Besides, it's hard to shake him off because prior the wedding, Takeru was _always_ with Hikari. They had been dating since their late teens and even whenever it was a 'female only' event, Takeru was an exception because of his easy-going nature. He's more intuitive than all the boys combined together, and despite his extreme cheekiness, he's got a big heart and his company is always enjoyable (minus today, of course).

I see him as a younger brother that I've never had. Being an only child, I've always wanted a younger sibling - and Takeru, even if he is an adult and has kids of his own, ticks all the boxes of what I think a younger brother should be. Sometimes he'll pop around mine and ask me about my adventures in Europe because he'll be struggling with description for scenes outside of Japan. Other times he'd ask me for advice on presents what to get for Hikari (and had even asked me to help him pick out a ring for her when he had proposed).

Additionally, whenever we'd crash Hikari and Takeru's house to catch up, there are times I'd evade the girls' gossiping, and make Takeru tell me the latest basketball results of which team is in the lead. It's a great excuse to not listen to the girls gossiping because I actually _do_ take tabs on basketball because my father's obsessed with the darn sport. Call it the tomboy side of me, but sometimes listening to Mimi rave on and on about the latest celebrity gossip can bore me to tears. To be blunt, I'd take Takeru fanatic basketball droning on about statistics any day over pointless gossip.

"Talking about Kou, have you heard he's dating this hot, blonde bombshell? Do you know who she is?" He almost drives past a red light. "I want to see her."

"Takeru," I condone him. "Nobody uses ' _bombshell_ ' in this time of age any more."

"I still argue that it may be out of date, but it is still a fun description. Have you forgotten that I used to write under a secret alias and I was a profound professor specialising in thrilling romances?" He divulges, even though I've heard this story one too many times.

I don't bother to respond as he parks the car. I snatch my bag and stride towards the entry to the department store. He follows behind me and angles his head at my direction with a prominent smirk.

"Like the one you're having now?" He continues the conversation I specifically had chosen not to continue.

I sigh, "Like _what_?"

"A thrilling romance with my brother."

I groan.

We're in an aisle of pencil skirts. I hold out two hangers in front of me, tossing between the beige or black skirt. Takeru points at the black one. In spite, I pick the beige, returning the black skirt onto the rack and draping the skirt over my left arm.

"So... _what_ are you?" Takeru asks, as I dash to the next aisle to find an appropriate blouse. "If you're already staying at his house, wearing his clothes _while_ he is making you his absolutely scrumptious pancakes, there _has_ to be something going on."

"We're _not_ living together! Nothing is going on," I snarl at him. "Butt out of it, Takeru."

I snatch a pale pink blouse from the shelf, stalking off to the register. Takeru matches my pace and slides next to me. He says, "I can't, Sora."

"Why can't you?" I glare.

"Because he's my brother," Takeru responds. "And, well, you're like my sister too. I need to know if, whatever you have going on, is serious."

Since I don't know what's going on either, I mutter to him, "We're just playing around, Takeru."

I hear a cough behind us. I glance behind us and see an old grandma leering at us in disdain. She motions for me to step forward in the line. She's clearly been eavesdropping on our conversation considering she's looking at me like I'm filth and a disgrace to society.

"Like I said before _nothing_ is going on," I whisper quietly.

Takeru frowns, "Aren't the two of you _too_ old to be playing around? You're both over thirty!"

"I've _just_ turned thirty," I correct him.

"Same thing. You're both ancient."

I step on his foot intentionally, smirking at his yelp, as I walk past him placing my clothing onto the counter. As I'm about to pass my credit card for the cashier to process, Takeru slaps my hand out of the way and gives the total amount in cash, even to last single yen.

"Why are you paying for me?" I snap. I wave the card in front of the cashier. "Take my card please!"

"Oh, I already put it through the register with your husband's money."

I cry out, "He is _not_ my husband."

"I'm so sorry!" The cashier apologises. "I noted the ring he wore and-oh, _ohhh-"_

"No!" I deny. "It's not what you think!"

Takeru's face turns bright pink and I hear the old grandma behind us mumble, "Young folk having affairs these days. Horrible creatures, they are! They don't have a sense of morality!"

I bow, gripping onto the bag of clothes, hurrying with Takeru out of the store before another scene unfolds. I've dealt with my share of embarrassment today, and it hasn't even hit midday yet! First, knowing that I had slept with Yamato again. Second, Takeru finding out. And, thirdly, being _accused_ of having an affair.

Unfortunately, for me, Takeru finds amusement in this. He links his arm with mine and chuckles loudly, "So I'm committing adultery now?"

"If you hadn't paid for my clothing, it would have been fine," I snap at him. "I'll transfer you money tonight."

"No, it's on me since I interrupted your alone time with my brother."

I hurl him off me, walking forwards, and I only slow my pace when we arrive in front of his car. He unlocks it and I dive into the passenger seat. "Can you hurry up? I don't know if I can stand being with you any longer."

Takeru laughs, starting the engine.

The silence doesn't continue past a minute because as soon as he opens his mouth, I let out a groan.

"But it seems to me that Yamato is fond of you. Although you don't seem to be interested in him, it's rare that Yamato warms up to people." Takeru's tone of voice is no longer foolish and mocking, but rather thoughtful as if he's trying to make sense of a cryptic puzzle. "Yamato's usually dismissive to new people. I think it all stems down to paranoia of trusting people ever since he became famous."

Yamato may be fond of me, but it mightn't be in a romantic interest. We have too many mutual friends that it feels that were practically _meant_ to warm up and accept each other.

"Right," I utter, not knowing what else to say.

Takeru speaks back, "Which is why you should end this if you're fooling around."

I blink, staring at Takeru. It's not like I've been asking for Takeru's permission anyway. As I had told him, there's nothing concrete about what's been happening between Yamato and I. Even I don't know what's going on. Nevertheless, it's also not like Takeru to tell me this. He's always fooling around and is always lecturing that everybody enjoys life and makes the most of it...so for him to tell me to end something that doesn't exist between Yamato and I is very peculiar.

"Because I don't want either of you to get hurt," Takeru reasons out.

I nod. I understand where he's coming from. He's my close friend and Yamato is his brother. And, not only because of that, but all of our friends would be uncomfortable if something bad happened between us. Take Mimi and Taichi for instance...I don't want to risk straining friendships over something that is not certain - especially when I don't know what it is that I want anyway. We already have enough dramas within our circle of and I contributing to this cycle would be bad because we had slept together for our own selfish and lustful intentions.

"You're right," I agree with him.

"Possibly," Takeru says. He turns at me and grins. "But that doesn't mean I'm against it."

" _What?"_

Can Takeru made up his mind already? He was hating on the thought of Yamato and I being together; and now he's _fine_ with it? Regardless, this doesn't affect me either way...but it could help if Takeru stopped talking about things that wasn't necessary.

"What I'm trying to say is that if you _do_ get together I'm all for it." He tells me, "If you like him.. _.then_ -"

"Takeru, we're not dating!" I exclaim. "Like I said for the millionth time today, _nothing_ is going on. Besides, I'm not capable of dating right now. I don't know what I want."

He rolls his eyes at me. "That's exactly the same thing you've been telling me ever since we've met. How can you know what you want; when you're too scared to _try_ anything?"

"Because you know me!" I say. "I screw up! Everything I get involved with messes up."

"That's not true."

"Takeru, I don't even trust myself with my own judgement lately. What makes you think I'm even ready for something that is literally nonexistent? Just leave this, will you? Yamato and I...we made a mistake. It happened and it won't happen again."

Takeru furrows his eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

"Positive." I let out a strangled sigh. "Can you _please_ keep quiet about this?"

He knows I'm stubborn about this matter, and lets it go. However, curiosity gets the best of him when he questions me, "Depends. Who else knows?"

"Koushiro might have his suspicions, but I don't think he suspects anything much of it. Whereas Miyako only thinks we've slept together once-"

"So this _has_ happened before?" Takeru's jaw drops.

I gaze at the road in front of us, refusing to meet his eyes. He, again, almost goes through a red light. He presses hard on the brakes and heaves out, "This really _is_ a thrilling romance."

"Shut it," I snap.

"What if I don't want to?"

I plead, "Promise not to tell anybody. Not even Hikari."

"Then what's in it for me?"

Ah, _there_ it is; Takeru's hidden intentions.

He's smirking when he sees realisation has struck my features. I raise an eyebrow at him and glare. "What do you mean by _that_?"

"Hey, I bought your clothes and I'm going to keep your secret," Takeru muttered. "But we've got to trade something to be fair."

"I knew you were being too nice," I complain. My arms are folded again. I demand, "What do you want?"

"I'll cut you some slack. It's something easy," Takeru says.

I wait for his answer.

"Just come to Risa's birthday party this weekend?" He laughs at the astounded look on my face. "I told you it was going to be easy."

"Sure."

In truth, yes it was.

Maybe I'm just being petty, but I'm still tired with everybody because everybody will be coupled up. Mimi and Taichi will probably be back from Okinawa and have made up already, Koushiro will bring his new girlfriend, Miyako and Jyou will come together, Daisuke and Ken will be inseparable, and even Iori has a date. It would leave me with Yamato again. And, right now, I don't want to be near him. He's dangerous and I...I don't trust myself around him.

However, it was just like Takeru to know that I hadn't been intending to go.

"Hikari wants you to be there."

I mumble, "She hasn't formally invited me."

"Since when did you need an invitation?" Takeru replies. "Oh, wait! Maybe it's because you're not talking."

I let out another sigh. Takeru _sure_ knows how to hit bullseye. I swear that in Takeru's past life he was a seer. I have to give him credit for noticing though. Like I said before, Takeru's the most intuitive out of the boys. He must have noticed the awkwardness between Hikari and I when I had dropped Taichi off at theirs when he had been drunk.

"Hikari looks up to you. She doesn't want to keep silent arguing with you."

Out of all the girls, the last person I haven't been talking to is Hikari. Miyako had forced her way back into my life, I had briefly spoken to Mimi yesterday...but Hikari, ironically the person I had nothing against, is the one who I hadn't properly approached ever since that time when I had exploded at Mimi's apartment.

It's like Hikari to respect my space, and I appreciate her for it. But I know, that she's hurt about it. Like how I see Takeru as a younger brother; Hikari sees me as an older sister. She must think and blame herself for my stupid actions. Additionally, whenever she deals with conflict she is quite stubborn too. We all are.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, or the rest of the girls...but Sora, please? Can you just make an appearance at the party this weekend?" Takeru says. "Hikari would really appreciate if you made it."

"Alright," I cave in. After all, I do owe Hikari an apology for getting upset and putting it on her when it wasn't her fault. And if it's anything to keep Takeru's mouth shut, I'll take it.

Takeru gives a broad grin. "I knew you'd agree to it."

"Because you're practically blackmailing me, you idiot!" I laugh out.

"Anything for my wife. Anyway, let bygones be bygones and- _wow!_ " He cuts his jest off short, "Taeko's selling the place?"

I lean forward, squinting at the ' _for sale'_ sign that's been planted in front of the jewellery store. I gasp, "No…"

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* * *

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To catch Hikari alone, I've decided to make an appearance at the party early.

However, now that I'm here, Hikari's nowhere to be seen.

Takeru and Koushiro are in the process of rearranging the furniture to create a bigger space in the lounge. Mr and Mrs Yagami are casting an eye over their grandchildren, with little Keita tugging at Mr Yagami's beard as he cradles him.

"Happy birthday, Risa!" I exclaim, picking her up and spinning her around in the air.

She's like a small princess, attired in Ella's blue dress from _Frozen_ , and her hair is up in pigtails. I kiss her on the forehead and she giggles when I let her go.

After placing her present on the table of gifts, I go back to greet Hikari's parents.

"Hello Sora!" Mrs Yagami beams at me. "It's lovely to see you."

"It's lovely to see you too." I greet, kissing the older woman on the cheek.

Mrs Yagami, during my university years, had been trying to get Taichi and I together and in the process we had become quite close. Despite it having been _immensely_ awkward when I had spilled the beans that it was Mimi that Taichi was dating, Mrs Yagami had still treated me kindly and jokingly suggested that I be the next girlfriend if the two ever did break up (which I opposed, through laughter and tears, of course).

I ask her, "Where is everybody?"

By everybody, I had meant Hikari.

However, Mrs Yagami briefs me, "The people who are here? Well, Miyako and Jyou are in the kitchen warming up some finger food. Takeru and Koushiro, you've seen. Um...and oh yes! Hikari's ducked out to buy a cake. Mimi usually makes cakes for the kids' birthdays, but she's busy at the moment so she couldn't make it today. That's why we almost forgot about the cake! Yamato is with her doing that last minute errand."

 _Great._ Yamato's here.

I shouldn't be surprised. Risa _is_ his niece.

Though, I don't quite understand why Mimi isn't here. I'm certain Taichi and Mimi would have made up by now and...wait? Why hasn't Mrs Yagami mentioned her son? Taichi should be here. If anything, the only time Taichi is early and _actually_ punctual is when he helps out with his niece and nephews parties.

"Where's Taichi?"

"He messaged me that he can't make it because he's got a project in Okinawa."

 _Okinawa?_

My eyes widen and Koushiro exchanges a look with me. He shrugs, appearing equally confused as I am. We both were there when we convinced Taichi to jump onto a plane to woo Mimi back - but it's been _one_ week now. He should be back by now!

"I see," I murmur. "I'll be back. Gonna head to the kitchen because I'm going to make some punch for tonight."

"I never saw you as much of a chef, Sora," Mr Yagami gives a throaty chuckle.

"I definitely am not. That's saved for Mimi. I'm only throwing a bunch of fruit, soda and alcohol into a bowl."

"I'd say that you are still talented in contrast to my wife," Mr Yagami responds, causing Mrs Yagami to scowl at him.

I bend down to grab my plastic bags of ingredients and make my way to the kitchen.

As soon as I arrive, Miyako waves at me and Jyou comes over to help with the heavy bags, placing them onto the kitchen table.

He's thoughtful like that. Miyako's caught a good one. He's a great catch and I'm happy that there is somebody that can cope with my dear friend's craziness, and understand her ever-changing roster at the hospital considering that he too works at the same place as a doctor.

"I'm assuming you've taken my advice and have spoken to Mimi?"

"Yes mother," I roll my eyes. "We're fine now."

 _Not really_ as I do recall Mimi calling me up when she was drunk. And I don't think it's a good idea to fill Miyako in about her being in Okinawa, possibly with Taichi (if they haven't fought again), because she'll scream and the whole house will know. I don't think Taichi would appreciate his parents knowing about the break-up because they absolutely adore Mimi. I'll tell Miyako afterwards.

Running some water over my hands, I dry them and proceed to preparing everything.

"Just how much punch do you intend to make?" Miyako eyes me as I take everything out of the plastic bags.

"Don't get too excited. I'm brewing a bowl without alcohol too," I explain.

When she sees a plastic container of strawberries, she immediately plops one into her mouth. "Mmm! These are good!"

Jyou scolds her on my behalf, "Honey, you aren't meant to be eating them."

I get straight to business.

Since I've sliced all the fruit at home, I half the fruit between the two bowls. I pour some ginger ale, then lemonade and then throw a handful of ice cubes into the bowls. Miyako watches in awe as the bowls fizz up, before Jyou drags her away from me to focus back on the pastries they are baking.

After sprinkling a decent amount of liqueur into one of the punch bowls, I give it a good stir. And, to add the finishing touches, I pluck ten mint leaves into each bowl.

Jyou looks over, curiously. "Why mint?"

"It makes the Pimms taste fresher," I reply, pouring them both a drink.

Miyako queries, "When did you learn to make this?"

"When I was in England. It's a summer drink, but I think it tastes great all year round."

"It tastes delicious," Jyou compliments me.

"Thanks," I smile.

I wash my hands and when I'm about to see if the couple need a hand with anything, I hear the roar of a familiar engine.

Miyako's eyes light up. "Hikari's back!"

I suddenly break into a cold sweat. I don't know what's come over me as I excuse myself to the bathroom. I'm not nervous about facing Hikari; I'm more anxious about the person who is with her.

Locking the bathroom door, I stare at my reflection. My cheeks are flushed, breathing laboured and my whole body looks as tense as how I feel. _Really, Sora?_ I scowl at myself. I flatten a stray strand of hair with some water and check if my lipstick is point. Let's pretend I hadn't spend an hour trying to figure out what to wear for a measly child's birthday party too.

Darn it. Since when do I care about how I look?

I frown at myself.

 _Because he's here..._

God, you're such a tart. I slap myself on the forehead with the palm of my hand. Get a grip on yourself! Am I really _this_ flustered? What's wrong with me?

There's a knock on the door. "Hurry up, Aunt Sora!" Hiroto yells at me.

I dry my hands, giving one final glance at the mirror before I trudge out of the bathroom. I mess up Hiroto's hair as I walk into the hallway. I pass the bedrooms and then note that Takeru's study is open. When I had hurried past it earlier, it had been closed. Hiroto must have been in it.

As I inspect the room, readying to close the door, I note Yamato's back. He's standing straight, surveying the bookshelves and stacks of CDs. He reaches out to take a particular CD out, turning it round to read the list of songs in the CD.

I gulp, taking a step back and trying not to make a sound - but a screech on the floorboard gives me away.

"Hey Sora," he drawls.

The one person I've been trying to avoid is right in front of me.

During the past week he had been trying to text me, asking the outcome of how it had went with Takeru. He had even messaged me if I had any updates on Taichi and my preference whether choc-chip pancakes tasted better than regular pancakes. All messages, I had been a snob and hadn't replied to him. Don't get me wrong - I _do_ feel bad about it, but in order to not make myself make another mistake, I just can't afford to string Yamato along.

It's not fair on him; or myself.

But, now that we're here, it's not like I can turn on my heel and leave either. It's rude and...my body's already gravitating inside the room. The door clicks behind me.

"What are you doing inside?" I query him. "You should be outside with everybody else."

"That could be said about you too."

"I was in the bathroom."

"And I was hiding from my mother," Yamato replies.

He stares back at the CD in his hand, taking it out of its case and putting it inside the CD player. He presses play and a catchy song seeps out of the speakers. The beat is strong and prominent, while the melody is quite relaxed, yet sedating.

"The Arctic Monkeys." He lets out a dry laugh, telling me who the band is even though I didn't ask to know their name. "It's their AM album, which is arguably their best one. Very hipster, if you ask me."

"It has a nice sound," I observe.

"Which is rare," Yamato mutters. "Takeru most of the time has shitty taste in music. At least the bass is good in this one. In fact, the whole album's bass lines are remarkable."

"The bass?"

"I was the main bassist for my band before we separated. Whenever I listen to anything nowadays, my ears tend to always pick up the bass in songs."

I nod, sitting on the sofa.

Initially, I was anxious about being in the same room as Yamato. But now that he's here, my nerves have settled and I'm unexpectedly calm about it. The thought of being out there, with the rest of the party, seems more of a chore. I don't want to witness any more sappy exchanges between Miyako and Jyou. I don't feel like talking to Kou or Takeru (the latter, for evident reasons), and speaking to Mr and Mrs Yagami by myself isn't all that appealing either.

I swallow my words back.

Yamato takes a seat next to me.

I close my eyes, and open them, wishing him away from me...but I feel the sofa shift under his weight as he moves closer to me. I bite my bottom lip. The bass is throbbing and is pounding against my senses, and I'm trying to see everything clearly, trying to make sense of it all. Nevertheless, when his hand touches mine it's then that my eyes finally gaze at his direction.

"Sora-I-if you don't want," Yamato's stuttering.

His blue eyes are hesitant as he scrutinises me, his fingers are curling back like he's pretending that he hasn't reached for my hand. However, I use my other hand to stop him from retracting back.

We're pausing, trying to interpret each other's expressions.

 _But it seems to me that Yamato is fond of you._

Takeru's words echo in my mind. I stare at Yamato, attempting to decipher whether he thinks I'm a joke or that we're... _something?_ Is he really fond of me? Is he…

Yamato's fingers lace through mine, and I let my other hand hold onto his other. In one sudden movement, he's pulled me over him. I'm sitting on his lap, legs spread and wrapped around his waist. I bite back a moan when he starts to kiss my neck.

The music is pounding in my head and my breathing hitches.

"You look stunning tonight," he whispers in my ear.

He stops kissing me, waiting for me to respond or either draw back. He's giving me the option to back out now before we make a mistake for the third time. And I'm close to it. I'm about to move away from him until Takeru's words taunt me conscience again...

 _How can you know what you want; when you're too scared to try anything?_

My mouth covers Yamato's, and I feel his lips quirk upwards at my senseless decision. From my answer, his hands goes around my hips, buckling me closer towards him an I feel the friction and warmth against his body. The kisses become fervent, and I'm lost between the beating bass and the way his tongue delves past my lips.

Before I feel his hand trail against my skin and under my breast, the door creaks open.

A little boy crawl into the room. He's sees us and lets out a groan, "Aunty Sora! Uncle Yamato!"

Yamato releases me from his grasp as I jump off him, smoothing out my skirt. I don't know what's worse; being found out by Takeru, or having Takeru's son giving us a withering look of discontent.

"Hiroto-kun? What are you doing here?" He sheepishly asks his nephew. Yamato's voice sounds irked that we've been interrupted, but there's a hint of amusement.

On the other hand, I'm slightly irritated by Hiroto's intrusion, but am also glad that Hiroto's saved me from doing something stupid - _again._

"Hide and seek."

"Oh," I say. I glance at Yamato who's looking at me. We're both attempting to think up a lame excuse for or immature actions.

Hiroto speaks before either of us, "I'll find another room to hide in. I don't want to interrupt."

"What?" "Huh?" Yamato and I exclaim in unison.

"I've caught mummy and daddy doing what you were doing many times."

Yamato and I are speechless as we watch Hiroto crawl back out of the study. When Hiroto's clearly out of sight, we burst out laughing. Poor kid must have been scarred if he had seen Hikari and Takeru making out more than once. But now we're the cause of his grief too. Just why did Hiroto have to walk in?

Just why was I making out with Yamato just then? _What the hell are you doing to yourself, Sora!?_

I wriggle off the sofa and stand up. Yamato's staring at me, still smiling when I offer him a hand to yank him up from the sofa.

"Where are we going to next?" He smirks. "The closet?"

"No!" I reply in aghast, hitting him on the arm. "Hiroto's already barged in on us. How can you think of us doing-"

"I was only joking, Sora," Yamato reassures me. "Besides, I don't think either of us can recover from Hiroto's interference. He's ruined the mood."

"Perhaps it's a good thing?"

He glances at me, questioning what I meant. I clarify to him, "We _are_ at Risa's birthday party."

Yamato sighs, "There are other places I'd rather be at right now…"

"Save it for another time. The others are waiting for us." I nudge him out of the study and before we turn into the main living room, he sneaks a kiss on my cheek before joining everybody.

And we are back to square one.

 _Sora, get a grip!_

Dumbfounded, I absentmindedly touch where he's kissed me.

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* * *

 **(a/n)** Thanks for reading!

Oddly enough, this chapter wasn't meant to exist either. And Takeru wasn't meant to get this much screen time, but because quite a few of you loved Takeru's appearance in the previous chapter...this chapter kind of ended up writing itself and became another extra, long chapter xD

P.S. And, if you like the Takeru sass in this story, you might want to check out my new story called ' _U_ _n Pétrin sans Espoir: how delightful_ '. It's a semi-sequel based off my other completed Sorato story (Starless Sky) and, like this story, will be written in first person from Takeru's point of view.

To my un-repliable reviews/reviewers who haven't logged in:

Thanks for reviewing _Guest 2 & LILFOC_!

 _Guest:_ Takeru is most definitely a little _shiet_ ;)

 _Mahu:_ Thank you for dropping by and, yet again, leaving another lengthy review! I made Hiroaki die on random. Haha. I think it just fitted well with the story and to flesh out Yamato's character a bit more, thus the reason for him smoking and acting the way he did in the previous chapter/s (which was also why he was looking forward to kicking Taichi out of his place to chase after Mimi too) There's more continuation of Sora and her trying to not make her 'mistakes' again in this chapter. I wanted to portray her that way because, in a sense, sometimes we're all like Sora ...when we'll say we won't do something bad/wrong, but we keep doing it again anyway. xD.


	16. chapter sixteen: minty fresh

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter sixteen

 **m** inty **f** resh **& m** agenta **n** ail **p** olish

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She's a beautiful woman.

I sip from the rim of my plastic cup, observing the older woman interact with her Yamato. Her light umber hair is tied back in an elegant, low bun, displaying the same shade of blue eyes Yamato has. Her clothes must be tailored from how her dress fits her perfect figure. There's a designer bag hanging from her arm and her red lipstick is on point - and don't get me started about explaining how her skin is in _perfect_ condition _._

Then again, Yamato and Takeru _are_ both handsome, having obviously been blessed with their father and the woman's genetics.

I'd scoff is somebody had pointed her on the street and told me she was a grandmother. The woman has no wrinkles and compared to my own mother, it looks like they'd be decades apart in age.

Whatever conversation she is having with Yamato doesn't seem light-hearted. There's a firm frown on her lips and Yamato's jaw is taut.

When Yamato and I had reappeared from Takeru's study, his mother had immediately latched onto his arm. Yamato had subtly beckoned me away, "Save your ears and your own life. Escape, Takenouchi."

He didn't need to tell me again because, if anything, I didn't want to be involved in listening to their mother-son conversation (as amusing as it could be).

From the way Yamato talked about his mother, I would have thought her to be a horrible person. However, upon seeing her, I couldn't get over how beautiful she was to see how 'horrible' she could be.

" _Ouch_!" Yamato cried out, nursing his arm as he glared at his mother.

Alright, so perhaps Yamato's mother appeared beautiful and harmless...but if she had just hit Yamato and he _actually_ looked like he was wincing in pain, there evidently is more to her than what meets the eye.

The two are interrupted when a pair of females greet both Yamato and his mother.

I angle my head, frowning when I realise it's Jun.

The friction and tension between mother and son has dispersed away by the newcomers. Jun and Yamato must have been really close if she is in good terms with Yamato's mother. Yamato's mother is laughing as she gives Jun a brief hug.

It's understandable though. Yamato's mother would probably want somebody like Jun to be Yamato's partner because Jun's _also_ beautiful. Jun has a kind of exquisite, yet different beauty.

Her dark copper hair is cropped short and is rather spiky. She's tall like a model, holding her shoulders back with a straight back, sporting a casual grey dress. Compared to her, I feel short, my figure is skinny and not as curvy and my posture slightly-hunched. If I stood next to her, I'd look like a joke.

My eyes fall onto the woman that Jun has taken with her. I don't know who she is, nor do I recognise her. While Jun has got short hair, this woman's got long wavy jet-black hair. She's just as tall as Jun (perhaps they should both consider modelling?). For a Japanese lady, she's got a straight nose, her teeth are straight and she's got a bigger bust than I do. Even though her appearance is simple, she too is also stunning.

I sigh.

What's gotten into me?

I don't often care about how I appear, but with all these gorgeous woman (including his mother) surround me, I feel like a loser. And I don't even have a reason to feel this, well, intimidated! It's not like I'm competing for Yamato's affections, nor does Yamato have the right to stick my by side the whole night. He knows other people here...and so do I.

"Ma's harassing Yamato again," Takeru slides in next to me. He clinks my cup against his. "You made good punch."

"Yeah," I say. "If you're here to pester me about Hikari, I haven't had the chance to speak to her yet because she's busy with all the guests."

"True," Takeru agrees. "Maybe I'll arrange dinner next week. Then the both of you have no excuse _but_ to talk to each other."

I huff. "I don't get why she has to be mad about it. Mimi and I were the ones that fought."

"Silent treatment is also a form of combat."

I raise an eyebrow. "And you would know because…?"

Takeru chuckles. "She's done it to me before."

"It's Hikari's specialty," I agree.

"By the way, Sora, wipe here," Takeru passes me handkerchief. He's directing me to use it to wipe the corner of my mouth. "Your lipstick is smudged."

I follow his directions, but at the same time I feel my face turn pink. From the knowing look on his face, I know Takeru had noticed my short absence with his brother.

"Hey guys!"

I'm glad about the other person's arrival because if Takeru's with me any longer, I know he'll next interrogate me about Yamato. As I cast a glance towards the person, I immediately recognise the puppy-dog eyes, short, yet dishevelled, brown hair. Immediately, I fling my arms around his neck.

" _Daisuke_!"

He simpers at me. "Good evening, Sora."

It's great to see another person who isn't preoccupied with their other significant partner. Daisuke's got a fiancé, but he hasn't taken her with him tonight because I don't see her lurking besides him.

Retracting my arms back I chatter, "Thanks for lending the coffee machine to me. I'll return it to you next week. We managed to lure more customers in, but Taeko is still adamant about closing the store."

"Really?" Takeru frowns and recalls, "So the ' _for sale_ ' sign wasn't a joke?"

"If only."

"That's sad to hear," Daisuke sympathetically replies back. "If it helps, you could always work at my noodle restaurant."

I shake my head. "No thanks. I've dealt with too many restaurants to last my lifetime. No offence, Dai."

"None taken." Daisuke gives a toothy grin. He takes in the atmosphere, curiously gazing around the house and it's when he gazes across the room, Daisuke's lips curve downwards. He accuses Takeru, "Why is Jun here?"

I query, "You know Jun?"

"She's my sister," Daisuke sighs. "And she's a pain."

"Aren't all siblings?" Takeru contributes. "But yeah, I invited her."

"Why?" Daisuke groans. "I feel betrayed. And I thought you were my best friend…"

While the boys complain at par, I scratch the back of my head. Of course Daisuke and Jun are siblings. Why hadn't I seen the resemblance earlier? Enough that I had only met Yamato this year; how is it that it's only now I've discovered that Daisuke and Jun are related?

As if hearing that we've been talking about her, Jun waves marches towards us.

"I thought I heard my name. How are you, little bro?" Jun ruffles Daisuke's hair.

It's quite amusing because as I witness the siblings stand next to each other, I realise the height difference. Jun is _actually_ taller than Daisuke!

Daisuke repeats, only this time to his sister, "Why are _you_ here?"

"Rumour has it that Grandma Takaishi was making her infamous trifle. I _had_ to come over," Jun exclaimed. "I mean, why didn't you consider making a dessert business, Daisuke? I'd be over more often visiting your if that was the case. I can't eat your boring ramen all the time-"

"Maybe that's why I made a ramen business," Daisuke rolled his eyes. "To _prevent_ you from coming over and free-loading."

The siblings continue to argue, and I find myself droning them out. The kids are playing amongst themselves with the Yagami grandparents patrolling them. Miyako is sitting comfortably on Jyou's lap on the armchair. Koushiro's on the phone. His face looks serious, so I think he's on a business call. The guy's _always_ working. I wonder where his date is?

I then glimpse Hikari's shuffling around, serving some quiches to guests. As if finally realising that he _too_ is a shot, Takeru leaves my side and begins to pour my punch into plastics cups. He places them onto a silver platter and walks around the room like a waiter, even bowing at the right moments.

When he dishes out glasses to Yamato, his mother and the other woman - it's only then I realise that I've been staring too long, especially when I realise that somebody else has surveyed me...

"There's no need to worry. Rose isn't worth being threatened over," Jun whispers into my ear.

I almost jump on the spot. I narrow my eyes, staring at her. Jun merely shrugs with a cheeky grin. Daisuke's left and I'm stuck with her.

 _Great…_

"I _don't_ feel threatened."

I'm still hesitant being around Jun because of her history with Yamato. And, well, she had walked into Yamato and I making out. Ever since then, I don't think I can recover and _not_ be uptight whenever she's in the vicinity. I mean...she wanted a _threesome?_ She was joking, right?

"You were glaring daggers, honey."

"Shouldn't you be the one getting jealous?" I retaliate back.

"If anything, he should be jealous of this…" Jun smacks my butt.

I turn to her, gawking, "What was _that_ for?"

Jun ignores me and waves over to Yamato, who has witnessed the scene. Yamato stares back at us, eyes wide as he shakes his head at Jun. However, upon seeing Jun and I together, he murmurs and excuse to his mother and makes his way towards us.

"Now why would Yamato get jealous over that?" I clarify, rubbing my throbbing behind. She had landed a good one because it stings.

"He doesn't like Rose," Jun tells me. "Besides, Rose doesn't chase after the other team. If anything, if Rose does accept Yamato's moves then I will kill her-"

I blink. " _What_ are you talking about?"

Jun studies me and when she sees that I completely don't know what she's rambling on about, she peels into laughter. She holds a hand to her chest. "Oh...oh my goodness, Sora! He hasn't told you? You don't know?"

Placing my hands on my hips, I reply, "I don't know _what_ exactly?"

" _Jun_ ," Yamato says, eyes darting between the two of them. "What are you ladies talking about?"

"That you haven't told Sora that I'm gay!" Jun cries out.

"Oh," Yamato says, but his eyes are avoiding mine. "I thought she already knew."

 _Jun's a lesbian_? She's _into_ girls?

In a sense, Yamato had never told me, nor had alluded to me anything about Jun. Whenever I'd rave on about her to get more information if the two were together, he'd deflect the topic or just quietly let me assume things.

"But it's _Sora_ and you didn't tell her!" Jun scolds him, while I'm still trying to get a grasp on what is happening.

Yamato mutters, grumpily, "How would I know that you'd want me to blurt around your sexual orientation to everyone?"

"That Jun loves me?" A new voice pops up. Rose has come over too. She places an arm around Jun's waist and tuts, "Yamato, I know you can't get it through you're thick skull already...but she doesn't like you anymore."

Yamato merely chuckles.

" _What_?" I'm getting a headache.

Jun leans her head towards Rose. "Sora, this is my girlfriend. Rose, this is Sora."

"Sora?" Rose says my name. "I've been hearing a lot about you from Yamato and Jun."

 _Christ. Do I even want to know?_ I debate with myself. _Hmm...maybe not._

I choose to go with the flow and provide a rigid smile. "It's nice to meet you, Rose."

We all make small talk. I want to abort the conversation, but I don't want to appear rude. Rose and Jun already must get enough from society of how people react and get awkward when they find out that they're together; and I don't want to seem rude…

But I really do want to leave them right now.

It's not because they're lesbians - it's because of the situation I'm in.

All this time I had thought that Jun and Yamato had something going on; and I had been fooled. I had even felt, to a certain extent, intimidated by their relationship. And now, well...now I feel _absolutely_ stupid.

The two women, thankfully, leave to go to the bathroom, leaving me with Yamato.

"Am I meant to eat all the fruit in the punch?"

I stare at him, still irritated. I know he can tell I am, and he's attempting more small talk to make me feel better and, probably, to help me get over my initial shock from the finding out that Jun's a lesbian.

"You don't have to, but it won't kill you either," I respond.

"Good." He nods, "Because I already had some."

"That's nice to know," I reply back, sarcastically.

 _Like I care._

"...Including the mint."

He meets my eyes, sheepishly, and I can't resist but to let out a giggle. Yamato's intentionally doing this, but I can't help but feel amused. "You didn't have to eat the mint! The mint is just for flavouring and to make it taste refreshing."

"Yes," Yamato agrees. "My breath is _minty_ fresh."

Now his humour is rivalling Taichi's. I step on his foot to stop him from producing any more lame jokes.

"I'm going to get a refill." I gesture at my drained cup.

He accompanies me as I search for the new location where the punch bowl is. It's next the the table of presents and, ironically, most of our friends are within close proximity of it as well, circling it like it's a camp fire.

"Hey guys," Miyako grins. "Glad you're both there."

There's a knowing look in her eyes, so I ignore her and pay my attention to Koushiro. "Where's your date?"

"She couldn't make it," Koushiro frowns.

Takeru speaks up, "That's a shame. We were all looking forward to meeting her."

But we all know Takeru. He probably just wanted to embarrass poor Koushiro. However, we've been all curious about Koushiro's mystery woman for a while.

Hikari's the only one that's absent from our friends that are here, as she's still socialising with all the guests.

Takeru comments when he sees me looking at his wife. "She's still mad that Taichi couldn't make it to Risa's birthday. He's in Okinawa for work."

 _For work, my foot!_

Yamato, Koushiro and I are exchanging glances. We're the only three who know the current status of where Taichi and Mimi are. And, for some reason, they hadn't returned yet. It's worrying, but the fact that they're together is better than them being apart. Mimi _had_ texted me to say that she was fine and that she was with Taichi four days back, but I hadn't thought that they'd still be on the island.

And, I do recall, Mrs Yagami filling me in that Mimi's 'too busy'. If Taichi and Mimi are this keen about lying, they should have at least consulted with one of us so we can help them out.

"Did you want some food?" Daisuke questions. He picks up a platter of mixed quiches and a bowl of wedges, presenting it to all of us.

Jyou helps himself to a wedge, Takeru to two, and Koushiro scoffs down a cheese and ham quiche. I simply point at my punch cup and Yamato also says, "I'm good with the punch."

"Ever since you've walked in, all you've been doing is drinking." Miyako asks Yamato. "What's the last thing you ate?"

"Sora's mint."

There's a long, silent pause before Takeru cackles obnoxiously, with Daisuke and Miyako later joining in, peeling into a fit of laughter. Jyou is looking awkwardly at his shoes, Koushiro's face turns red...and I, well I want to _murder_ Yamato.

 _Doesn't he think before he talks?_

Yamato's eyes harden, he tries to brush it off like it's nothing, but only making the situation worse. He stammers, "I didn't mean that...the mint _in_ the punch."

I close my eyes. I want this to end. Although Takeru, Miyako and - maybe - Koushiro knows what's going on between Yamato and I, I don't want them delving further into this topic before one of these guys blurts it out. If the rabbit is out of the hat, Yamato and I will be roasted and our friends will never give us the time of day.

"So, tell me, _why_ would you eat the mint, Yamato?" Miyako smirks.

I groans, "You idiots are immature."

"That's right," Yamato gruffly agrees. "Get over it."

"Hey! You're the one that brought it up, man!" Daisuke hits Yamato on the arm.

Before our friends begin to tease us even more, there's a big clang. Our heads turn towards where Hikari is standing. She's dropped the serving platter of sandwiches, but she's not paying attention the mess she's caused. Her eyes are staring unblinkingly at the screen on her phone.

"Hikari?" Takeru says, rushing towards her side.

We all do.

Takeru takes the phone from Hikari's hand and studies it, while showing the rest of us.

I lean in, peering closer as I see it's somebody's _Instagram_ account. It's a photo of somebody's left hand. The person's fingernails are perfect, painted with magenta nail polish - a colour that happens to be my best friend's favourite colour. _It's Mimi's account!_

Despite it all, it isn't her magenta nail polish that has got us all gaping. In fact, it's the silver-gold band on her third finger.

A _wedding_ ring.

"THEY GOT MARRIED?"

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 **(a/n)** I'm going to leave this chapter at that. It's a shorter chapter, but the previous chapter was the longest length, therefore it evens this one out.

Random factoid, but the very bad mint joke happened to me when my (crush at that time) said it. All our mutual friends kept quiet before cracking up laughing. And, well, I thought it was funny to incorporate it into this story. Haha. xD

Thanks for reading!

 _Guest: Thank you for reviewing! I'm glad you're finding the personalities in this story likeable :)_

P.S. Will reply to the rest to the reviews later on today, but breakfast is calling for me!


	17. chapter seventeen: friends to lean on

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter seventeen

 **f** riends **t** o **l** ean **o** n

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It's _so_ like Mimi and Taichi to take the spotlight.

Even when apart and not as a bothersome duo, both of them individually are the type of people who garner attention from just breathing. Mimi with her shrill voice, flamboyant manner and graceful movements (a trait she inherited as she used to be a child gymnast prior to fracturing her ankle). Taichi with his characterised bush of hair, sharp attire and charming smile. They don't intend to take all the spotlight; it _just_ happens.

Especially whenever it comes to drama.

Though, I have to say, even this time they've got me mesmerised. The scale has tipped. Heck, the scale has _bloody_ plummeted _!_ The Okinawan trip was meant to be a fight and makeup (and out) battlefield - _not_ an elopement!

Nobody saw this coming; and a week later we're _still_ talking about this.

And exactly _where_ were our invites?

Sometimes - a lot of the time - they don't think about things like this. They don't confront particular outcomes, they don't realise that there may people who get hurt people along the way due to their sporadic decision making.

I mean, I should have _possibly_ expected something like this to happen. I can't completely blame them for this because their definition and whole being is the synonym to unpredictability. They're a dangerous combination. Because Yamato and I had schemed to get them on the same island together (without adult supervision) to reconcile, this catalysed response had occurred.

My best friends are stupid.

Perhaps I'm slightly angry and feeling selfish that I wasn't there on their special day. I had been anticipating their wedding day since they first got together; and I _knew_ that I would be Maid of Honour one day. I had already missed out on Hikari's wedding, so Mimi's wedding was something I had been looking forward to. And don't get me started about the dress I had designed for her in my mind. It would have been my _perfect_ wedding gift to her...and now she's ruined it! Correction. _They've_ ruined it.

"Sora?"

"Yes, Taeko-san?" I murmur, turning away from readjusting the necklace display. I've been too immersed in my thoughts that I hadn't realised that it's not Taeko who has called me. If I had been with it, I would have remembered that Taeko had ducked out of the store early and that the voice belonged to somebody else.

When I realise who it is, I correct myself and greet, "Hikari?"

Apparently, everybody seems to know how to ambush me at work when I make myself unavailable First Miyako, now Hikari.

She's by herself - a rarity since she's either usually has a child clinging onto her, Takeru at her side, or one of the other girls with her. It's not often we're together. I'm more used to Miyako's company than Hikari's.

It's not like I've been avoiding Hikari on purpose. At Riza's birthday I had been meaning to talk to her, but the whole news about Taichi and Mimi broke out and it would have been the wrong timing.

"Hey Sora."

I give her a tight smile. "What brings you here?"

If she's going to lecture me about Mimi or anything; it's too late for that. Mimi and I have _somewhat_ forgiven each other. I mean, there's no longer room for me to be upset and negative about it; especially when Taichi and her have officially wedded. That and, well, as soon as Mimi and Taichi had arrived back to Tokyo a few days ago, she had called me and had given me a thorough run through of what led to the elopement and we're back to like nothing had happened between us. It's a weird way, and perhaps cowardly on my end, but I'm just glad to have my best friend back.

I observe Hikari. She makes herself at home, walking around the counter and taking a seat. "Nothing."

"Right," I mouth back, regardless following her towards the counter.

We stare at each other until Hikari throws her up in the air, crying out a, "Fine!"

Hikari shoves her right hand before me, showing that it's balled in a fist. She then releases her fingers from its tight grasp and I see that there, sitting on her palm of her hand, is the set of white-gold earrings I had given to Riza for her birthday.

"Why'd you give this to her?"

I answer back, bemused, "It was Riza-chan's present."

"She can barely talk and you're buying her expensive jewellery?" Hikari says to me. I feel like I'm on the receiving end of being scolded by an adult, despite being older than the said person in front of me.

"Take it back. There's a sign out front. You're going to lose your job, so you shouldn't be spending your money so carelessly. You can't afford this, Sora."

"I can!" I reply, stubbornly. "Besides, I got a discount from Taeko because I'm a staff member. I _wanted_ to give this to Riza-chan. I'm her aunt. She's special to me."

 _You're special to me too, Hikari…_

Hikari furrows her eyebrows.

"Then do you have any matching earrings for me?"

I don't know what Hikari's scheming, but I point her towards the earrings display. Her eyes sieve through the first display, then she squats down to second. While doing so, she points at random sets of white-gold earrings and I put them out.

Hikari's never been much of a jewellery person. She's quite minimal in her nature, tastes and appearance. I expect this more from Mimi and Miyako; _not_ Hikari. Therefore, studying my friend sift through the display makes warning bells ring in my head.

She studies the white-gold studs, then the small loops. "Since you gave Riza loops, I think I'll get a matching pair."

I suspiciously eye her as she takes the credit card out from her wallet. Ever since Hikari's had children, she hasn't been much of a spender too... _so_ -

"All right," I finally say. "What _is_ going on?"

"Since you won't take Riza's present back, I'll do you a favour and buy something," Hikari tells me, as if anybody could have guessed her intentions. "I'm helping the business."

"Then it'll be 10,500 yen please."

Hikari hands her credit card to me.

She's firm about the earrings and whenever Hikari's mind is set, it's beyond difficult to persuade her out of it. I run the credit card through the machine, making the transaction. Packaging the earrings with a ribbon, I pass it to over to its new owner.

"All yours."

She stays rooted on the same spot, not making her way towards the door.

Of course, Hikari isn't the ordinary customer.

"Takeru wasn't joking when he said that Taeko-san was selling the place."

"Yes, it's true," I say.

"It could be nice if you had told me."

"And what?" I reply.

She suggests, "You _could_ work for my childcare."

Even though we haven't been talking to each other, it's like Hikari to want to stick her nose in my business because - well - she cares about me. I know she's trying to be a good person and she had a kind heart, but I feel prideful and quite embarrassed asking help from my younger friend who has already enough in her hands. She has three children, for goodness sake!

"Don't I need a certificate for that though?" The thought of working with children is daunting. I'd rather do a random babysitting gig than work full-time with kids.

"I can make arrangements. It'll work if you want to." Hikari looks at my unconvinced expression on my face and lets out a sigh. "Sora, you know we're all here for you. You're always doing things like this; never leaning on anybody for assistance. We're your friends. If you need us to help-"

"Hikari, I'll be OK," I intervene. "I've got a few interviews coming up. Most of them, I have previous colleagues working for each company, and they promised to chip in a good word about me. I'm bound to get into one of them. The salary might not be the best, but I'll survive."

"Are you sure?" She bites her bottom lip.

I confirm, "Positive."

Her eyes gaze at me in concern. I can't help but go over to her and give her a hug. "Thanks Hikari."

To my surprise, she breaks down and starts crying.

"Hikari?" I blink.

I let go of her and watch her sit back onto the chair, doing everything to avoid my stare. She's taking out her handkerchief from her handbag, dabbing around her eyes. However, her crying escalates and I don't know what to do!

Mimi and Miyako are often breaking down into hysterics, yet Hikari and I are the opposite. We rarely cry. Or, when we do, it's not in the company of others.

I touch Hikari's shoulder. "Why are you upset?

She sniffs, "I mean it with what I said earlier, Sora."

"About what?"

"How you are," Hikari responds. "How you never ask for help from anybody…"

"That's how I am," I give a small smile. "My parents raised me to be independent. And when you don't have siblings and you live overseas for a while, you learn things the hard way-"

"Which is exactly why I'm upset," Hikari looks up at me, eyes still tearful. "You. The girls. Everybody. We're all family. We look out for each other. And, out of all our friends, it's you who cares for all of us and when you're going through hell...we aren't. We _don't_ know. And I...I'm sorry if we made you feel alone."

It's funny how the youngest in our friendship group is the most intuitive and the one who's figured it out. I might have not known it myself; but by her saying it out loud made it evident to me that, perhaps, she's right.

Yes, my friends had all been upset at me for keeping things to myself when I was frustrated with everything. But they had thought it more of a phase, more of a career thing...more of 'Sora being Sora'. They thought that I'd get over what I was going through on my own.

Despite it all, this problem has been with me for a long time. Ever since flying back from Spain it felt more prominent and real because being in Japan reminded me that...

I _was_ alone.

My friends, family... _everybody_ had their own thing going on. And I had nothing. I had to get back onto my own feet again and pave my own footpath.

Once upon a time I had thought that Sebastian was my future. Living with him, marrying him, having children with him - I had been so sure, so certain of it. However, that dream had ended; and it had been my fault.

"Sora!" Hikari cries out. She puts her arms around me, and it's then that I feel the trail of tears slide down my cheeks. "And...I _knew_ Mimi was wrong that time, but I sided with her without even knowing it."

"We all know Mimi," I let out a light laugh. "I admit I was a bit irritated that you guys were there for her. I got angry at the both of you for no real reason because I just wanted you to side with me for once."

"That's why I felt awful," Hikari says, tone filled with guilt.

I mutter, "I realised that I was being selfish too, for causing more drama about it. Yamato pointed out to me that Mimi was being herself, which meant it was more me who might have stepped out of line."

"But that's what I mean," Hikari explains to me. "Mimi was wrong. And, it was like a habit, for me to side with her. And I knew later that I had hurt you too."

"Let's forget about this, please?" I say. "I'm over it. Mimi and are on fine terms now; the same can be said about Miyako. Darn it, Hikari, you've turning me into a blubbering mess. I'm meant to look presentable at work."

She giggles and releases me from the hug for the second time today. "So...I've noticed you've been talking to Yamato a lot."

 _Great! Not this again!_ I groan to myself.

"We are friends now," I reply. "Wasn't it bound to happen eventually?"

"I guess." Hikari prods, "But you seem to be talking to him more than the others lately."

I shoot her a curious look, scrutinising the cheeky expression on her face. As I stare down her even longer, she bursts into laughter. "I'm just joking."

"Good," I say.

At least Takeru's kept his promise about not telling his wife.

She finally advances towards the door. As she's about to go I suddenly remember something.

"Hikari!"

"Yeah?" She pivots around.

"You'll be going tonight, won't you?"

Hikari tilts her head, looking at me with a frown. "What's happening tonight?"

Realising that Mimi mightn't have invited the other girls, I shake my head. "It's nothing. Mimi and your brother wanted to catch up with me and I thought that they were going to ask the whole gang to come along."

"No," Hikari utters. "We already had the family dinner last night and, let's just say, both sets of parents were angry about not being involved in their wedding."

"Of course they were." I grimace remembering the Yagamis' reactions at Riza's birthday party.

They had been _absolutely_ flabbergasted. I mean, they had witnessed Hikari and Takeru get married, but I know that had been patiently waiting for their older son to tie the knot. From the looks on their pale faces at the party; it must have been a slap in the face to them.

This is what annoys me about Mimi and Taichi. And, unfortunately for me, it looks like I'm stuck with the formidable pair on my own tonight.

 _Save me..._

 _._

* * *

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"You get Sora an Okinawan _expensive_ glass bracelet, yet here I am stuck with some lousy cheap keyring!"

"It's not _any_ cheap keyring," Taichi adamantly objects, even though he's on the losing end since he hasn't erased the 'cheap' in his comeback. "It's a _beer_ keyring. Orion Beer, which was founded _in_ Okinawa."

"Which is a beer that I can also buy _anywhere_ in Japan!"

I fold my arms, leaning back onto the plastic seat. I hadn't expected _omiyage_ from the recently wedded couple, but I'd be denying it to say I disliked it. The bracelet is quite pretty as I observe it on my wrist. It's composed of a circle of beads, coloured different hues of blue and it sparkles stunningly whenever I move my wrist at certain angles.

From the side of my vision, I catch Mimi beaming. "I'm glad you like it, Sora."

I nod. "It isn't ugly. Thanks, guys!"

"At least Sora's happy and grateful for her gift." Taichi snarls, "Unlike _somebody_!"

"I didn't ask you to get it for me!" Yamato snaps.

I sigh, sharing a look with Mimi. "You should have invited the others. At least they can break the two idiots apart. Do they always argue pointlessly like this?"

"Always." Mimi giggles.

Or course, the other person at the get together slash catch up is Yamato. Like Hikari had told me, Taichi and Mimi had the dinner with their family and parents the previous night. They had thought about inviting everybody, but they had wanted to speak to Yamato and I first.

Out of all places they picked a Batting Range to hang out at.

Another day I would have found it great. Yet, it's almost midnight. I'm exhausted from work, and it's the only time that are schedules were free (I found later that it had to do with Yamato working over time). It's not helping that there are so many old business men loitering around all drunk. And to actually _hear_ Taichi and Mimi talk about their Okinawa Trip was proving to be hard against the drunken talk _and_ the loud noise the machines would make whenever shooting out baseballs.

We could have waited for the weekend, but both Taichi and Mimi wanted to personally tell us first because Yamato and I were meant to be the Best Man and Maid of Honour respectively.

This is the longest time I've been without seeing Yamato. It's almost two weeks and a half. I would be lying to say that I hadn't thought about him. There were times, before I'd go to bed, I'd picture us tangled up in sheets, grasping onto each other with the taste of his lips, still vivid in my memory.

And don't get me started about the multiple times I had been tempted to text him. I had written mock sentences, then deleted them, flinging my phone aside before I'd 'accidentally' press the send button. I, somehow, persisted on and refrained myself from contacting him.

Though, I have to say, I might have been a bit disappointed that he hadn't rang or messaged me either.

Yamato and I aren't serious. It's a sticky situation and I do not want to make it worse. If we continue being involved with each other, it'll become a vicious cycle. I may not know what I want right now...but sleeping with him isn't helping my current state. What's important is me getting a job and having steady income.

As if knowing I'm thinking about him, his cool blue eyes line up to mine. I quickly look away.

"And we also want to thank you for helping us patch things up between us," Taichi continue, thankfully breaking the awkwardness. "If you hadn't spoken to Mimi, Sora, we wouldn't know where she was."

"Mimi was bound to call somebody," I mutter. "She hates being by herself too long. She's awfully clingy."

" _Sora_ ," Mimi says, pushing my side with her hip.

Yamato smirks. "And what about me, Taichi? Come on. Tell me."

I laugh.

Taichi rolls his eyes, but speaks anyway, "We want to thank you too, Yamato, for making me get my shit together and buying me the tickets to Okinawa. You also housed me too and dealt with me when I wasn't in my best state."

"You're always hard to deal with, Tai," I find myself adding.

Mimi whinges, "Can't you guys listen to us? We're trying to express our gratitude."

Yamato chuckles. "Yours is genuine, Meems. But anything that comes out of Taichi's mouth is-"

I kick him under the table. Mimi's right. It's not always that Taichi and Mimi put this type of effort to thank us, their _amazing_ friends. Therefore it's pleasant hearing them juice out compliments subjected to us.

"Anyway, what we're trying to say," Mimi picks up from where Taichi's left off, "-is that we want to thank you for being our best friends and being there for us whenever it counts."

Getting up from my chair, I lean over and give them both a kiss on the cheek, officially congratulating the married couple. It's out of place giving them my best wishes while at a Batting Range, but in a way, it'll make their announcement to us more memorable.

However, Yamato doesn't let them get away with. "So why are we here though?"

"Hotdogs, chips, cotton candy and _your_ favourite, Yama baby..."

Even I can guess what Taichi's referring to. "Popcorn?"

"Exactly!" Taichi winks, causing Yamato to guffaw.

"And we're paying for this dinner," Mimi explains.

I piece the puzzle. "Because it's cheap?"

"Don't make it sound _that_ bad, Sora," Mimi pouts. "Taichi and I have _just_ come back from a holiday. You should be glad we have discounts."

Yamato snorts. "Not only is it cheap, but they're _also_ using vouchers. I wanted it to be a five star restaurant. What do you think, Sora? This isn't fair. We should bring them to court and file a case against them for all the times they've abused our hospitality, goodwill and charity-"

Taichi throws Yamato a scornful glare, raising his middle finger at the musician.

I laugh again.

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* * *

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 **(a/n)** THANK YOU for reading! Was going to add more to this chapter, but I wanted to leave it on a good note. The next chp will be solely Sora x Yamato. I had difficulty writing Hikari's scene, so - even though it did take a while - I hope it paid off and read realistically.

I loved the shocked reactions to Jun being a lesbian. ;) She was gay from the beginning in this story, so it was finally nice to let the rabbit out of the hat.

Anyway, some of you might already have noticed it uploaded already, but I've taken on another story that is _parallel_ to Bittersweet Catastrophe. Just think of it as Bittersweet Catastrophe told from Yamato's POV. It will be in the same universe and in conjunction to this fanfic.

Yamato was irritating my muse (while writing this chapter) and _desperately_ wanted his story to be written too.

This is the result...

.

 **Lifelines**

 _"I've been sleeping with a recently diagnosed lesbian. My career has reached rocket point, and as for my love life? ...Well, it's non-existent. That is, until this crazy redhead runs in front of my motorbike." I bark, "Now, for the love of God, pass me a darn aspirin, Koushiro!"_

 _**prologue is now up_

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	18. chapter eighteen: hit or miss

_._

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter eighteen

 **h** it **o** r **m** iss

 _._

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* * *

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Taichi swings.

Unfortunately, for him, his target grazes the bat and bounces back behind him. I suck in my laughter. It's ironic how Taichi's a magnificent soccer player, but whenever he plays baseball he completely sucks at it. He lets out a growl, slamming the baseball bat onto the ground and stalks away from the designating batting cage area.

Sometimes, Taichi can act like a big baby; _especially_ when he's losing.

Of course, Yamato is naturally riling him up. He smugly picks up the bat and gets into the correct stance. Yamato's good at baseball. Since I've viewed him as musician this whole time, it kind of sets a default mode in my mind that he wouldn't be good at any sports. However, tonight proves me wrong...

The baseball connects the bat, and the three of us watch the baseball soars up into the air before gracefully dropping down onto the opposite side of the batting range. Yamato's turns around to me, broadly grinning and giving two thumbs up.

I clap my hands and whistle at the wonderful hit. I cheer, "We're winning!"

We've split into two teams. Since we're at the batting centre, we had decided to finally play a game. The newlyweds are obviously in one team, while Yamato and I comprise of the other.

Taichi crosses his arms and sulkily says, "Who cares? We're not competing anyway…"

"I care." I stick my tongue out. "You're going down, Yagami!"

Mimi's up next and, almost immediately, she fails miserably. Instead of getting all worked up and upset over it, she giggles. "At least it didn't hit my on the face like last time…"

 _Ah, Mimi_. Finding optimism in everything, even though it's clear as day that Yamato and I will win. Taichi doesn't find Mimi's comment appealing at all. He blows bubbles into his coke and mutters to me as I walk past him for my turn, "I wish you bad luck."

Inside the batting cage, I grab the bat and take position. I haven't played baseball since high school. I wouldn't say I was the best at it; but I wasn't terrible at it either. I shuffle on my feet, trying to find the best place to get comfortable. It's more intimidating now to play because instead of a fellow classmate pitching at you, it's a machine. And, let me tell you something, the machine is _very_ accurate - meaning, there is a likelihood of me missing the ball and it rebounding onto my face or body.

I swing the bat into the air, and I let out a scowl. I had hit the ball, but it flew upwards above my head. It's lucky I've dodged it because it lands exactly where I had been standing.

Shrugging to myself, I murmur, "At _least_ I hit it."

I'm pretty upset about it. I've never been _this_ bad at baseball. Hopefully, by the end of the night, I can relearn my old baseball skills.

After a few more rounds, Taichi finally has done one successful hit (and keeps gloating over it), Mimi's on a streak of missing the baseball, while Yamato continues to be flawless and not missing a single hit. I'm envious. Even though Yamato's in my team, it makes me irritated that I can't hit the baseball like he has been.

I haven't been doing too bad. I've hit the ball every time, but the angle where I hit is wrong.

Tightening my grasp around the bat, I get into position.

"Straighten your back," Yamato calls out.

"I'm straight enough! I don't need your help!" I snap. I hear Taichi guffawing in the background. It irritates me more. And, because I'm momentarily distracted, I miss the ball. I growl, getting prepared for the next ball.

I hear the metal gate creak open.

 _Yamato?_

He silently approaches me and adjusts the way of how I'm holding the bat, placing the bat higher into position. Yamato strokes my arm in the process. I hold my breath. I swear he's doing this deliberately. The next thing I know is that he then uses his feet to part my legs. He leans closer towards me, straightening up my helmet.

"That's better." Yamato advises, "Trust me, this will help you land it."

His deep blue eyes are twinkling as they graze over me. I can feel his breath against my skin. The proximity of how close he it towards me is truly getting to me. I'd better _not_ be blushing.

 _Get a grip of yourself, Sora! You've done much more with him before for you to feel flustered!_ I tell myself.

As if listening to my thoughts, Yamato licks his lips and faintly smirks, "Do you need me to demonstrate how to do it, and to hold you from behind?"

"You're distracting me. Get out," I shut him down, ignoring the hidden meanings behind his words.

I push him out of the batting area and exhale. I'm relieved he's out of my sight at the moment. This is partly because I'm a _tad_ bit shaken of how he had appeared besides me. The other reason is that I don't fancy being chided how to do things - especially when Yamato _knows_ he is good at this sport. Call it my competitive side, but even if we are in the same team, I _hate_ that he's better than me.

Nevertheless, I try out his stance. As the machine shoots out a series of balls, my bat clangs against the third ball. In awe, I watch it glide in the air, slamming against the opposite wall. The sensation of having the ball connect to the bat is _wonderful._ It's great; it's exhilarating, it's…

"Invigorating, isn't it?" Yamato supplies. He gives me a friendly punch on the shoulder as I step out of the batting area.

I beam at him against my will. "Thanks."

" _Cheater,_ " Taichi grunts, bumping me as we exchange paths, prepping for his turn.

After one more round, Mimi and Taichi call it quits. I've improved with every time I play. And the more we drag on the game, the more Mimi and Taichi get intimate on the seats. It's not that I'm against public display of affections; it's just it's uncomfortable when they're your close friends and they're doing it _continuously_ in front of us.

They leave first. Taichi makes a lame excuse about work; and Mimi says that she needs to wake up early. Again, a lie. Yamato and I exchange glances, seeing through their lies. Why are they even bothering to make excuses - especially when we can read them like a book.

Despite it all, we grant them leave.

Yamato and I are sitting on the booths, neither of us leaving. It's dangerous that I'm with only him. Every time it's just the two of us, things get out of control. I lose restraint; and it's something I dislike about it. About myself. I'm sure Yamato's the type that doesn't dive for relationships. And me? I'm not ready for one; and right now...I don't think I ever will be.

"One more?" Yamato asks me.

I find myself agreeing. "Sure."

After all, I _do_ want to get better at baseball. I can't tell whether it's because of my competitive drive; or whether it's because Yamato is keeping me company. Perhaps it's both? If the other girls and I were here, they would have dragged me out of the batting centre by now.

We're not challenging each other who gets the most hits. If anything, Yamato keeps tipping me pointers here and there. The more he does, the more I manage to land cleaner hits. Whenever I do land the hit, I feel a wave of triumph shower over me. The stress of not having found a new job, the stress of not meeting my parents' expectations, the stress of not having a partner...all these thoughts go over my head.

 _No wonder I used to love sports…_

Sports had been my getaway. And this is a clear indicator why I should up my game and get fit again. The high after exercising always does me good. Maybe that's why I've been in such a foul mood lately.

Yamato and I end up staying at the batting centre until close. The lights in the centre dims, clearly hinting that they're ready to kick us out. Yamato passes me my coat. I drape it over my shoulders and we stride out of the building, and blend amongst the people, in the heart of Shibuya.

"So bye then?" I manage to speak up.

I don't know what else to do. We're not seeing each other off, which is a good thing. One little coax from him and I'll already be gone. I don't want to admit it, but it's true. There's something about Yamato that has a hold on me. And once Yamato's got me in the mood, he's hard to shake off. I need to run away from him while I can.

"Taking the train?" Yamato muffles under a black mask covering his mouth.

As soon as we had exited the batting centre, he had put it on. Even though his music group had disbanded two years ago, I've found that he's prone to getting recognised by the odd person. Since we're in Shibuya, he's taken extra precautions.

I glance at my watch. "The last train will be in ten minutes. I'd better go."

"Alright then. I live near here so I'll make my way home too." He stares at me, nodding slowly. "I'll see you around then, Takenouchi."

We don't hug or kiss a farewell. Instead, Yamato _actually_ bows at me. I observe him, blankly. Not knowing what else to do, I bid him a 'goodbye'.

I wander away from him.

Something doesn't feel right. My shoulders droop slightly at the fact that we're leaving each other in such an odd way. I feel hesitant, but I need to keep going. If I get stuck in Yamato's presence, I'm scared I'll suffocate. He scares me. I'm scared of myself when I'm with him and-

"SORA!"

His voice reaches me.

I spin around from the ticket gate, gazing at him. Yamato's hands are on his knees as he breathes heavily, in and out, trying to catch back his breath. His cheeks are touched with pink and his eyes are determined.

"Do you want to grab a drink?"

Before I can stop myself, I smile softly. "Where did you have in mind, Yamato?"

The night is young...so why not?

.

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* * *

.

When Yamato had suggested ' _a drink_ ', I had pictured us going to some quiet, shabby bar nearby.

I would have been happy with that, but Yamato had went against my expectations.

He had hailed for a cab and, since I had already agreed to going out with him, I didn't decline the offer when he held the taxi door for me. I could have said no, but I dislike going back on my word. After all, it isn't like Yamato's a stranger anymore. I trust him to a certain extent. However, I _don't_ trust myself around him.

Yet, here I am.

Instead of a run down bar, we're downing some drinks at one of the most lavish hotels in Tokyo. The lounge is dim, yet elegant. Candles are scarcely spread throughout the area, shaping an intimate atmosphere. Comfortable leather seats and expensive marble tables ornate the area, but it's the bar we've chosen to sit at. There aren't many customers or hotel guests in the lounge, which is nice...but awkward.

When we had arrived at the _Grand Hyatt_ , I had openly gaped at him. I was sure he had invited me for a drink, not to visit a five star hotel! If he wanted to sleep with me here, why bother? We could have went to a cheap love hotel or one of our places. Not that I'm planning for anything to happen between us.

He had clasped my hand, and guided me inside the sparkling foyer. The not-so-subtle shock in my expression earned a chuckle from him. "We're just having a drink."

"Sure," I managed to mumble, trying to calm down.

So fast forward, and here we are.

Instrumental jazz hazes over us. Random crisp, frantic notes compose an upbeat - yet relaxing - melody. The pianist is talented. His eyes are closed as his fingers flow back and forth on the keys, acting like the music he is creating is not difficult at all. It sounds like smooth honey.

And I feel like I'm melting…

I drowsily rest my head on my hand, elbow anchoring me from dropping down onto the bar. As soon as we had arrived there, I had already drunk three drinks, regardless of it only being fifteen minutes being here. My cheeks feel like they're on fire.

When you're with a ridiculously handsome blond, your choice of clothing is baggy shirt and jeans, and you're having a drink at an expensive hotel...of course you'd feel silly. And, with all three in my mind, I had almost sprinted to the bar.

"Drinking enough, Sora?" He smiles a crooked smile.

I sigh, "What was wrong with the bars around the batting centre? Isn't this a bit too extravagant, Yamato? It almost feels like a date."

"Do you want it to be one?" He's swirling his glass of scotch and coke, watching the ice cubes crush against each other.

Even during moments like these, Yamato's joking around. How am I meant to take this? What does he want?

I deflect his question. "Any inexpensive bar would have been fine. I'm paying double for a decent drink!"

"I like the vibe here. I thought you'd like it too." Yamato shrugs, his lips slightly angling downwards.

 _Great, now I feel bad. Good going, Sora..._

"Anyway, I'd rather get a scandal here than anywhere else. It's suffocating wearing a mask whenever I'm in busy places."

Being _here_ is suffocating. Of course, I don't say that out loud. I'm not that rude. Yamato had made the effort to ask me out and had even paid for the taxi ride to get here. I shouldn't be complaining.

"Even if I get spotted here, people mainly pay attention to the pianist. Most guests are foreigners, so sometimes I get mistaken for one too." Yamato says, "And because not everybody recognises me, I'm not hassled as much. I get to be alone."

"You like being left alone?"

We share this similarity. I don't always like being by myself, but I do need my own space from time to time. Yamato's craving for isolation would unquestionably be scales higher than my own, considering he had been the lead singer to a famous band.

"Usually," Yamato admits. "Prior to the band, I liked it. Though, after a while, I do get lonely as well, since being on your own too much is unhealthy too. But when you have friends, like Taichi, it's impossible to remain a hermit."

"The same could be said about Mimi," I comment. I hold my glass up. "Cheers for getting them back together."

"Cheers." He says. His eyes are filled with laughter as he clicks his glass against mine.

We finish our glasses and Yamato pays for the next round. He remembers my order, placing the tequila sunrise where my previous glass had been.

Taking a few sips, I feel my surrounding begin to faintly blur. The quietness between us makes me focus back to the talented pianist. Wait... _what_?

It could be the alcohol, but I could have sworn that the pianist had turned his head over to us and winked. The pianist keeps playing the instrumental song, and soon it transits to the tune of _Fly Me To The Moon._ The melody is nice. It's not a song I'm overly familiar with, but I have heard it before. My mother must have played it on her old cassette player when I was child. My dad wasn't a music listener, but my mother had been.

As the pianist skilfully plays the second chorus, I notice the pianist glimpse over at us, again, but instead of winking he displays a large, toothy grin.

"Did-did he just?" I stutter. I look up at Yamato who's already chuckling at the pianist. I raise an eyebrow at him. "You know him?"

"My old bandmate," Yamato explains, scratching the back of his head. "He knows I loves this song."

"I see..."

We remain silent again, observing the pianist. When the song changes, Yamato taps me on the shoulder. He moves his stool closer to mine. "Out of curiosity, I still want to know your answer to the question I asked earlier, Sora."

"Which question?" I reply back, dumbly.

I know very well what question Yamato is referring to, and it's a subject that clearly makes me feel uncomfortable. But from the tone in his voice, I can tell he won't let this go until I make my response clear to him.

"About whether you want this to be a date."

 _Yes, that's it..._

I bite my lip, trying not to flinch. However, the impact of his question has already hit me.

This could have been avoided a long time ago. I could have stopped this from the start. Yet, I keep getting in too deep with him. And he...Yamato's been doing the same. What we're doing, what we are - it's a question mark. Even I don't know what happening anymore because whenever I'm with him, my sense of clarity ceases to exist. He makes me lose control, and he doesn't even know it.

"Does it have to be a date?" I ask him back, leaving the ball in his court.

What we have going on now is good. It's not messy, but it's not healthy either. Even though I was against the thought of Yamato and Jun's relationship, if we continue doing this...will I become like Jun? Will I just be there for Yamato at his dispense; and him for my own too? Gosh, I'm a hypocrite.

I don't like it and I _don't_ want us to be like this.

Yamato's too special to be treated like that and he doesn't deserve for it to happen to him again. And, although, he might have had the friends with benefit thing going on with Jun...I know he shares some feelings for her. He _must_ have. I mean, how can you not?

On top of everything, Yamato and I have the same friends. If something like this comes out in the open, they'd despise us for it. If the two of us fought, imagine all the repercussions? I mean, think about Mimi and Taichi! I don't want my friends spectating us like how we spectate the newly wedded couple.

"Let it be one then," Yamato says, thoughtfully. I didn't think he'd continue this conversation, but he has. He keeps speaking, "We can try it, Sora. We'll take it slow and, maybe, start seeing each other first…"

 _What?!_

"Haven't we passed the dating stage?" I hiss. "We've _slept_ together already, Yamato! This isn't romantic at all!"

"Do you want me to be romantic?" He gently simpers.

I splutter, "No! Just... _no!_ "

He laughs. "You're really against this, aren't you?"

"Yes! No! I'm not sure!" I cry out. "I don't know. You're confusing me. I'm not ready for this...and-are you even being sincere about this?"

I try to read him. He's lazily smiling at me, his eyes intently looking into mine, filled with amusement and a hint of interest. Nevertheless, he doesn't choose to say anything. He keeps gazing at me. He reached out for my hand, grazing his thumb against my fingers. Although he's not saying anything, his actions, and his silence is making me feel more flustered.

Any other time, Yamato would easily let this joke slide - but, right now, he's not denying his words. Is he serious? He...he _can't_ be serious!

"That's impossible!" I say, swiping my hand back from his hold. "H...how can you like somebody like me? _Why_ would you want to try dating me? Don't you have a bigger list of girls to choose from? I-I'm not good enough for you!"

"Come on, Sora. If anything, I'm the one that's not good enough for you." He chuckles.

I snap. "It's _not_ funny."

"But you are. I mean...this situation is." Although he's sounding awfully casual about this, it's then that I see that his cheeks, too, looks a shade darker from his normal colour. "I mean, we could try it because there is no harm trying, right? If it doesn't work; it doesn't work. If it works, then I'll be damned."

"Damn right," I grumble, gazing down at my cocktail.

I already told him I didn't know what I wanted, and then he asks me out of nowhere. How am I meant to react? I seriously don't know what to make of this!

"Sorry," Yamato apologises. "I'm new to this. I haven't dated anybody for almost five years so I'm sorry if I'm coming out as immature or, maybe, even bold. It's been awhile since I've asked somebody out properly, if you get my gist?"

"I feel flattered," I say. I'm not lying about this either. It seems Yamato is reluctant as I when it comes to picking potential people to date. However, I can't help but feel hesitant and wary. "Though...how do I know that what you are saying is true? If you just want to screw around, like you did with Jun, how can I find your reasoning valid?"

I know I have trust issues. Sue me. I want to be safe, and you can't blame me for it.

He stares at me, curiously, "Haven't you been the one using me? If anything, I think I've been the one getting played. You _did_ say you wanted to get laid."

I almost spit out my drink. _Fucking_ fantastic!

Why does he have to remember this out of all times? Why does he have to bring this up... _now?_

And, you know what, as much as I want to disagree with him...he is right. I had slept with him out of lust and loneliness, and Yamato he had used me too. We mightn't have the most evident chemistry, but we _are_ attracted to each other. We've had enough nights together, so it's impossible for us to deny that we weren't attracted.

"Besides, it will save us from finding other people to sleep with…"

" _Yamato_ ," I groan, hitting him on the arm.

He laughs, catching hold of my wrist and planting it around his back. "What do you say? Should we try it?"

I try to draw back from him, but he's got me in a tight hold. Yamato does have a point.

Since I'm not going anywhere, I rest my head against his shoulder. So much for _not_ caving in. I wouldn't be here with Yamato right now if I hadn't felt any attraction towards him. I breathe against his neck, and smirk when I feel his body stiffen.

The cons are much larger than the pros right now, but having Yamato with me...there's something about him that has always appealed to me. We somehow work on the same wave length, and we get along well. Even if we might become only friends at the end of this; sometimes you've got to take a chance.

Anyway, it's not like I _don't_ like him.

"It'll be just a few dates," I confirm, giving him a light kiss on the neck. I hold my breath when I feel his hand caress my thigh.

He gives me a knowing look. It's a look that I both desire and despise. "Should we seal the deal then?"

Yamato tilts my chin upwards, locking his lips with mine.

Everything becomes a blur after that. And I hate myself for it.

Since when did I become this... _easy?_

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 **(a/n)** I'm sort of at a loss with this chapter. I'm not entirely happy with it because it ended up deviating away from what I intentionally had meant to occur. Then again, that's the magic of writing, I guess? Sometimes scenes/situations end up writing themselves. This is a prime example. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed it. If this unsettled feeling doesn't leave me, I might end up rewriting it xD

 _Guest:_ The banter between Yamato and Sora is always fun to write. I'm glad you like Jun in this story! I think I got sick of Jun being antagonised as a character (even, I admit, I have written her as evil multiple times)..so I wanted to write her differently in this story this time. Hm, I think Jun originally was a groupy (in this story)..but things ended up changing. Haha. I'm not sure if I'll reveal it in this story or in Yamato's parallel story. Thank you for reviewing :)


	19. chapter nineteen: catastrophe comes in 2

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter nineteen

 **c** atastrophe **c** omes **i** n **t** wo

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Waves of sated euphoria diffuses over me.

The drumming of my pulse rate gradually reduces, and it's easier to breathe again. I let out a drained, yet content sigh as I lay onto my back. I don't have the energy to move elsewhere and

I'm not too keen about getting changed and dressed just yet. It's a Saturday. I don't have work today; so there's no need to rush.

Sleeping with Yamato shouldn't be looked down on anymore, now that we've reached a mutual agreement. Therefore, I don't have to worry about doing the walk of shame and I can stay in this position as long as I want-

His reaches for me, strongly manoeuvring me so that I'm lying on top of him. My arms entwine around his neck and, against my bare body, I feel his steady breathing as he inhales and exhales out. I snuggle against him, getting comfortable and he trails more kisses down my neck.

I've concluded that Yamato is like dark chocolate.

He's bitter; yet sweet. And he can be a mixture of flavours, of unstable mood swings and addictive charm.

To me, he's a catastrophe. A much _needed_ catastrophe.

And he's overwhelmed me. The more I'm with him, the more I want to be with him.

He's driving me mad.

Yamato's driven me crazy all night, that I've lost count how many times we've made love. In between, we'd take lazy intermissions and raid the minibar. However, soon after, we'd get back to it. And, don't get me started on that particular period when we were certain we had had enough, and even had gone out of the way to wash each other in the bathtub. It hadn't lasted long until he had thrusted into me under the water.

We had even called room service for dessert. It's a wonder how something as simple as dessert can _somehow_ be changed into something rather racy in nature. Whenever I think about what we did - what _he_ did - I feel my cheeks burning up. Yamato would do absurd things to me, and I'd take it and challenge him on because I had also been lost in a haze of ecstasy. Lust makes you do things you would never think you'd do; and it had fuelled my body all night.

He stops kissing me, hands caressing my face as he gazes intently in my eyes. I offer him a placid smile, brushing my lips on his left cheek.

"Are we going to sleep together every time we go out on a date?" I murmur. Not that I'm complaining.

Yamato runs his fingers through my hair. "I'll take you somewhere nicer."

"And this isn't nice enough?" I question him. I blandly jerk my head at the hotel room. "We're in a penthouse for crying out loud! Who knew hotel rooms _required_ crystal chandeliers? And then, you surprise me, by telling me that you _own_ this place-"

"-it's _not_ all mine," Yamato cuts in before I end my sentence. He explains, "My band mates and I paid the lump sum together, making this penthouse a _shared_ accommodation. We take turns using it, or we let each other know by text when we choose to occupy it."

 _Ding dong!_

"Like now?" I arch an eyebrow.

Yamato groans. He retracts his arms from around my waist, leaning over to the side to make a grab for his phone that is sitting on the bedside table. I make the task difficult because I don't want to move from my comfortable spot, even if I am sprawled on his naked chest.

He frowns, scrolling through the unread messages on his phone.

"Like now." Yamato confirms.

I grumpily roll off him, getting out of the bed.

The bell rings again, and Yamato shouts at the door, "Wait a minute!"

Yamato throws my clothing towards me and I catch them as I dash for the bathroom.

He tells me, "You don't need to hide, you know?"

" _Right_ ," I roll my eyes, shutting the bathroom door behind me.

As if I'll be caught dead in bed with Yamato - and in front of a complete stranger too! I still am, slightly, traumatised by the fact that Takeru had caught us.

Footsteps grow louder and I hear Yamato's bandmate snort, "Jun's here?"

"Shut up, Yutaka. We were over ages ago. Didn't I already fill you in about how she's no longer a single woman anymore?"

"How could I forget? She likes girls now from what I hear," Yutaka replies. "I'm not surprised because you're quite an ass."

I try to not pay attention as I get changed, but I can't help but listen in to what they're talking about. Outside the group of our mutual friends, I've never really heard Yamato talk to anybody else, so hearing him converse with his former band member is intriguing to say the least.

"Gee, thanks." Yamato's grumbling. "Whatever happened to the message rule? I posted it on the group chat that I'd be here."

"After seeing you all smitten with that woman last night, I thought I'd sniff out the crime scene instead. You never take women here, not even Jun. Now, let's see the damage. Ah, yes...upside-down chairs, unkempt bedsheets, hickeys on your neck? Wow, Yamato. Looks like you _were_ busy." There's a pause, until the Yutaka mutters, "Where is she?"

"Nowhere."

"There's no point lying to me, Yamato."

"For Christ's sake! She's not under the bed, Yutaka! I told you. She _isn't_ here," Yamato scolds. "Can you leave now?"

"I saw the sneakers by the door," Yutaka laughs. "They're definitely too small to fit your feet."

There's a knock on the bathroom door. I freeze.

"It's lovely to meet your acquaintance, Miss Mysterious Lady."

"Yeah-um... _hi_?" It doesn't even sound like me talking. My voice is raspy. There's no point of me hiding when it's darn right obvious that I'm still in the penthouse.

"It's nice to meet you, even if you are behind a door." He tells me, "Yamato must be serious about you."

I laugh. As I'm about to reply, the stranger exclaims, "Shit, Yamato! That hurts. What are you doin-"

Yamato growls, "Get out."

After more arguing, I finally hear Yutaka cave in. He grumbles, "I'll meet you another time then, Sora!"

I blink.

Yutaka knows my name?

If Yamato's spoken about me to his band member and to his old lover, is he really serious about me?

My bemused reflection stares back at me. I frown, splashing water on my face and shaking my head at myself. What has gotten into me? I tuck the stray hands of hair behind my ears, smoothing it down with my damp hands. My pupils are still dilated, skin glowing and my lips are bruised.

The sex is fun with Yamato, our connection makes sense. We get along well, we understand each other...but is it enough? Do I want more from him; as he _is_ implying he wants from me. Relationships scare me, especially after the last one I had run out off.

He's too perfect for me. Yamato _truly_ is out of my league. Then why has he stuck around? Why hadn't we stopped it the first time? Why are we repeating this pattern?

Yamato pokes his head into the bathroom in timing. He informs me with a crooked smile, "He's gone."

"Oh?" I raise an eyebrow.

He comes inside, arms wrapping around my waist as he stares at us in the mirror. His lips touch my neck as he rocks me against him. I want to push him away, but I can't. I'm used to him now, and I _actually_ like being in Yamato's arms.

And, from this realisation, I begin to cry.

I really _am_ a mess.

"Sora?" He whispers my name. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I bite my bottom lip. I look at the tiles on the bathroom floor, not wanting to look at him or how ugly I look in the mirror. It doesn't make sense why he's with me. And, before I know it, all these doubts come spilling out of my mouth. "I think you're treating me too well. Is it because I'm Taichi's friend? Is it in your guilty conscience that you have to fake date me so that you can eventually dump me. I'm not just your casual hook up-"

"Hey," Yamato says. "Didn't I tell you already? I want to start something with you. Even if we take it slow and start seeing each other…"

"Which is why it's weird!" I reply. "Why would you want to see _me_? How do you even trust me? You don't even _know_ me yet."

"You're wrong," Yamato says. "We've known of each other for years, even if it has been indirectly. I _really_ do want to date you and see how it goes. I haven't been this curious about a woman for ages."

I gaze up and stare at him. His blue eyes are swarming with intensity that I have to look away from him again.

He continues speaking, "I trust you. I know you're not one of those women who'll cling onto me for my money or fame. Hell, you don't even know the name of any of my songs. And, to me, you're attractive because you're independent and always looking out for others. Not to mention, you're kinda hot even in casual clothing. You think and are doubtful of being with me, but I think it should be the other way around. You're the one who is _too_ good for me."

I haven't heard anybody compliment this much for a while. His words aren't joking, and they're making me blush. I don't know how to handle his seriousness, so I ruin the mood and reply, "Mimi's got a bigger bust."

He snorts, laughing hard. Yamato shifts my hips so that my chest is facing him. "And you've got some weird sense of humour too, Takenouchi."

"She still has a bigger bust," I retort.

"Mimi isn't the one I'm interested in," Yamato kisses me on the forehead. His hands then go further south, grazing against my lower back. "She may have a bigger bust, but you have a _finer_ ass."

I roll my eyes. Yes, we've both ruined the mood. Maybe Yamato and I were both designed to _not_ dish out compliments considering how horrible we are at it.

"Perhaps this is why we've both stayed single for quite a long time," I mutter.

"I've been single for five years," Yamato says. "Not counting Jun. I'm sure you've had more relationships than I have."

"Great. We're talking about our past relationships now?" I grumble. He holds my hand as we stroll back to the bedroom, sitting on the side of the unmade bed.

"Well, call me curious." Yamato shrugs. "I'm sure a lot of guys were after you."

"A year and a half ago would be my last one," I open up. "I broke up with him. It was when I was in Spain. I just couldn't see myself living with him there for the rest of my life, not when I hadn't had my own life sorted out yet either. I love Japan too much, and my parents-"

He cuts me off, "But you loved him?"

I smile. "Of course I did."

"Do you still?"

"A part of me will always," I admit. "Like me, I'm sure a part of you still loves and cares about your first girlfriend too."

Yamato still has his arms around me, and I feel him tense up. His lips form a grim line and he replies, "Always."

It's an honest answer too.

"So he wasn't an asshole?" Yamato queries me about my ex.

I laugh. "No. Which was why it was harder to break up with him. Did you break up with your exes?"

"I have before. I didn't do it properly though, but yeah...we're completely over," Yamato says.

I know that he isn't talking about Jun. Yamato has never admitted to dating Jun, only sharing a mutual friends with benefit type of relationship, so whoever he's talking about must have been somebody special. If anything, he feels tenser now that we've delved deeper into the topic of our previous relationships.

It's a prickly subject for us to talk about since we've decided to only 'see' each other. And, it looks like, Yamato isn't willing to reveal more about his old lover. Taichi has always mentioned to me that Yamato is quite personal about certain things.

Even when I've already stripped naked and exposed everything to him, was there a point of us hiding anything between the two of us? I hadn't completely told him my full story about Sebastian either, but that would have to wait another day. We're not _that_ together to talk about things like these...it's _too_ early.

As if sensing that the topic has turned dry, Yamato redirects our conversation, "I heard Takeru say something about you potentially losing your job…"

"Mmm." I lift my legs onto the bed, laying down and resting my head against his lap. He plays with my hair. It's a habit that I've noticed that Yamato always likes to do after we've slept together. "Takeru needs to learn to keep quiet."

"I can't agree even more with you," Yamato says. "He butts into my life all the time. Whenever my mother isn't; he is."

"You're really close though. I'm jealous. I wish I had a sibling."

"I feel like you get jealous over many things."

I make a face. "Apparently I've got a jealous personality."

Yamato smiles, staring down at me. "It's cute."

"God," I groan, turning over. "Don't call me cute. I _hate_ being called cute."

"I only save that compliment for my favourites. My Grandma, Hiroto, Keita and Riza."

"Please don't lump me with your Grandmother."

He points out, "But she _is_ cute."

"Do I need to kiss you to make you shut up?" I murmur. "You're better kissing than sweet talking, Yamato."

"I sweet talked you to bed last night?" He says, lips smirking as he watches me take off the top I had only just put back on.

"No," I muttered. "I had alcohol and I was horny."

"That makes the two of us." He gives a suggestive look. "What do you say about a part two?"

"It's on." I smirk, kneeling onto the bed and taking both his arms. His torso collapses over me and he's already groaning against my ear.

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I'm smiling broadly, staring out of the window.

I must seem like a lunatic to my fellow train riders as I've been abruptly giggling every now and again, whenever I'd remember what Yamato and I had done the night before _and_ even today. This commute home is proving more difficult than I had thought.

He treated me to a proper Italian lunch date afterwards. Again, I was underdressed - not that it mattered. I already looked horrible, but at least he leant me his jacket so I had looked _somewhat_ presentable. I reckon we would have stayed longer together if he hadn't had work to finish. Yamato was disgruntled when he had left, to the point that he almost appeared sulking. If he had used the word 'cute' on my earlier, I think it would have been more applicable to him at that moment.

My phone vibrates. I glance an it and see _Miyako_ on the screen. I ignore the call. I don't like picking up calls when I'm on the train, especially when everybody can hear you. There's another vibrate, and I note that a message has popped up.

Unlocking my phone, I read the message.

 _SORA! PICK UP! I DIDN'T KNOW. I COULDN'T THINK. IT WAS A MISTAKE. I PANICKED, AND YOU KNOW HOW BAD I AM AT LYING WHEN I PANIC. I'M SORRY._

Luckily, the next stop is mine. I alight off it and make my way outside of the station. Whenever Miyako's in one of these moods, she's even _worse_ than Mimi.

I hurry back to my place. It's a good thing I live nearby to the station. As I'm about to enter the building, I dial my distressed friend.

"Miyako?"

"I'M SO SORRY!" She screeches immediately. I have to hold the phone away from ear to prevent myself getting deaf.

"What are you talking about?"

If Miyako's going to continue screaming onto the phone, I at least need to talk to her in private and in the own comfort of my house. I climb up the stairs.

"Where are you, Sora?" Miyako asks me, voice urgent.

I sigh. "If this is about Mimi or Hikari. We're fine. There's nothing to be scared about."

"No, it's not about that!" Miyako cries out. "But more importantly... _where_ are you?"

"I'm almost home. Just about to turn the corner." I inform her of my whereabouts.

Miyako yelps, "SORA! I'm _so_ sorry!"

"Slow down, Miyako! Why do you keep apologising?" I groan. "What did you…. _do..._ "

My eyes widen when I see him at the doorstep, heart skipping a beat in utmost shock. My voice is lost in my throat as I drop my phone, not caring that it's bounced against the cement ground.

His dark, umber hair. His sun kissed, tanned skin. His alluring hazel eyes, and his infamous gentle smile that, had once, made my knees weak. There's flowers in his hands. My favourite kind. Purple orchids. And, as he approaches me, his lips lightly touches my cheek to greet me.

I'm still stunned, not knowing what to do.

All I accomplish is a weak, startled gasp.

" _Sebastian?"_

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 **(a/n)** _Heh_. That's all I have to say.

xD Was meant to post this up later on tonight, but one line turned out to be 1,000 words. Hope you enjoyed this chapter ;)

Will reply to your reviews when I get home. I need to get ready in ten minutes now. Eek!

Guest: I'm glad that you enjoyed the banter between Yamato x Sora. It's fun to write. I'm also glad that you like Jun in this story. It's nice to _not_ make her an antagonist for a change.

Faicentt: I'm happy that this English Sorato caught your eye. Thanks for reading :).


	20. chapter twenty: of gold & blue

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter twenty

 **o** f **g** old **&** **b** lue

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You never know when you will fall in love.

I hadn't seen it coming, or even thought of the slightest possibility, until Sebastian came charging into my life. _Literally._

Love is like a shadow that secretly crawls behind you, lacing its fingers around your heart, leaving you paralysed and a victim to its demands. So when Sebastian became involved in my life, it had taken me by surprise. I hadn't expected it. Love itself had swept me off my feet, and had found me when I hadn't been the least bit interested in seeking it.

When you've been single for most of your life, the thought of being bound to one person is daunting because you're used to keeping yourself company. Even as an only child, I guess I found ways to keep myself occupied, doing things without relying on a significant other. I believed something like love was reserved for couples like Mimi and Taichi; Takeru and Hikari, but _never_ for me.

My first encounter with Sebastian was when I had been working in an underground boutique store in Barcelona, which specialised in tailoring and dressmaking.

I had gotten the job out of pure luck. The designer, herself, was a successful middle-aged woman who, also, was conveniently half-Japanese. Keiko had made her designing debut in Spain, as her couture appealed more to European tastes. Upon applying for a position at the store, I had immediately been hired to fill up her part-time position as an assistant seamstress.

Keiko developed a liking to me because I had shown her photos of a wedding dress I had created in high school. Admittedly, I can say that I _was_ good at sewing and making clothes because my grandmother used to own an alteration service. It's not something I had seen myself doing in the long run, and it definitely wasn't my calling, but it was a great way to spend my time in Spain, earning Euros and working alongside a talented fashion designer.

That one Saturday afternoon I had been by myself, Sebastian _chose_ to storm into the store. Keiko was out of the city for the weekend, and had left me with the task of stitching on silver beads onto the train part for our latest client's wedding dress that was due the following week.

Because of the loud clamour from the door closing, I fleetingly had angled my head towards him when entered.

"I'd like to make an alteration. Urgently. I'll pay as much as you want. Do it now." His voice was deep and abrupt. Accent thick and rich as he spoke in broken, yet coherent Japanese. He had a powerful stride, seeping of confidence and undefined sharpness.

It had caught my surprise that he _knew_ how to speak Japanese, but I acted reserved to his demands. Even if he knew my mother language, it didn't mean that I'd drop everything I was doing for him. Who was he to tell me what to do?

Staring at the detail in the project I was working on, I had muttered back in just-as-broken Spanish, "You need an appointment."

Although I was looking back at the train, I could see that he had advanced towards me. His black pants, and pointed leather raven-shaded shoes were peeping in front of the left legs of my working desk.

He transited back to Spanish, "It's urgent. Where is Keiko-?"

Not many people knew the designer's name. The man would have been associated to her. And, from the broken Japanese, there was a chance that he might have been a good friend to my boss.

"Not here."

"Then can you do me a favour? Forgive me if I came off as rude." His abruptness had toned down, speaking softer. The way he had shifted to a pleasant and nicer tone, made him appear charming in contrast to I had initially thought of him.

He kept talking, "I know I'm a stranger, but Keiko designed my sister's wedding dress. They're college friends, actually. And, well, today is my sister's wedding...and I was wondering if you could help me?"

I raised my eyes to meet his, studying him with a frown.

His umber hair was gelled back and he wore and expensive looking suit, something I had gathered from glimpsing the smooth fabric. Despite how dauntingly professional and handsome he looked, there was something casual about him. Perhaps it was his sun-kissed tan, or the way his crooked, hopeful smile out brought glints of gold out in his hazel eyes. He had a warm atmosphere; and his warmth made me hold my breath when he strode towards me.

"With _what_?" I had asked, finding my own voice.

Instead of replying, he rotated around. I was about to ask what he was doing, until I had seen the approximate ten centimetre rip on the back of his pants, and from the gaping hole I could see his bright red briefs. I swear, as soon as I had noted the rip, blood had rushed to my face that my cheeks were probably matching the same colours as his underpants.

He turned around back to face me, giving a slanted, yet desperate smile. "Do I need to explain?"

"Exactly _how_ did you do that?" I asked him, but I couldn't contain myself, letting out a giggle.

"When the ring boy is rowdy and is bouncing off the wall, things like this... _can_ happen."

I repeated, "How?"

"The boy literally bounced on my back and I fell forwards. Thank God it wasn't during the actual ceremony though." He murmured, "Because then that would have been really hellish."

I nodded, studying his formal wear. The pants were always going to be an issue, as I discerned how _tight_ they were. Did the man have a preference for tight pants? Had he brought the wrong size? Did his tailor intentionally wish for him to be in pain-

"I gained weight and thought they'd still fit," he replied, answering the questions that had been stewing in my mind.

" _Baka_ ," I muttered under my breath in Japanese.

"Hey! I'm _not_ an idiot."

Unfortunately, his basic Japanese was enough to understand what I had said.

He admitted, "Just clumsy."

"I don't think I can fix it because it's already tight. If I sew it back together, there's still a high chance of you tearing it again – especially if you say that you're clumsy," I truthfully had told him. I glanced around the work station, searching for black fabric that could prospectively work as formal dress pants. "But I _can_ whip you up some pants in less than two hours. Will that be enough time?"

If he hadn't known Keiko, if he didn't have a large tear in his pants on his sister's wedding day (he definitely wouldn't be lying about that, I had surmised), if he hadn't had stopped acting like a jerk, _and_ if he hadn't been so darn good looking, I would have declined his request.

"Fine. The rest of the wedding will start in three hours anyway." He smiled, a big grateful smile. "I'm real lucky that the ceremony was held nearby. I owe you big time. There aren't any other clothing stores in this district, so when I remembered that Keiko worked here-"

He sat down, continuing to chatter on. I shook my head at him and motioned him off the chair. "Stand up. I need to measure you."

Snatching up the measuring tape from the desk, I walked towards him. I could have made him standard pants and guessed his measurement, but it would defeat the purpose of him coming to this store, and Keiko would probably be disappointed in me. That, and I was a perfectionist at heart.

He froze when he watched me drop down to under-the-belt level. I keep forgetting how worked up men get when I take their measurements. I tried not to roll my eyes. _Be professional, Sora!_

I slipped the tape around his waist, tightening it so roughly that he almost lost his balance. If he wanted me to do this in two hours, I'd have to hurry. Apologies could wait later. Giving a nod, I scrawled the measurement onto the notepad.

"Feet together." I ordered, bending down to measure his length.

It was strictly business, but I could see the hesitation in his stiff stance. I glimpsed his face turn darker under his tanned skin. He wasn't used to getting his clothing tailored.

"I'm Sebastian," He cleared his throat, trying to start a conversation, to obviously get his mind out of the gutter. "What's your name?"

"Sora."

After obtaining all his measurements, I went straight to work. He sat by the desk, leaning forward every now and again out of curiosity. With him breathing down my neck, I grumbled to him. "You can go get a coffee. It'll take a while."

"But-"

I snapped, "Go."

Thankfully, he had left. I thought I'd finally have peace and quiet; However, moments later Sebastian had returned with a cardboard tray of six styrofoam cups from the cafe next door.

He listed, "Mocha, Hot Chocolate, Latte, Cappuccino, Long Black or a Chai?"

"Why did you buy so many?" I commented, ogling at all the steaming brews.

"I didn't know which one you'd wanted, so I took a stab at it," Sebastian chuckled. He winked. "One of them has to be your type, right?"

Just _who_ in his right mind does that? I had to give him credit for it. The gesture was thoughtful.

I laughed because his enthusiasm to guess my preference was somewhat endearing. I told him, "I actually prefer tea, but I'll take the latte."

He chuckled at my reply, handing over my coffee. "You could have at least pretended you liked one of them."

"What can you say? I'm an honest person," I had responded, shrugging. I took a sip from the beverage and gazed up at him with a smile. "Thanks."

"Anything for you, _Preciosa._ "

We shared a look, and I bursted out laughing again. He was either a charmer, or he actually meant it. It was only when we had became official, I had later found that he really _did_ find me to be _his_ Preciosa (beautiful), fondly going to the extent to use the word as a nickname for me.

After I had completed making his pants, he had stripped out of his old pants – while I had closed my eyes – pulled in his new ones, said good-bye to me, then dashed out of the store, heading to his sister's wedding.

It was only when I was clearing up the work desk, that I found he had left more than a decent amount of cash, four left-over coffees, a single orchid (which he had stolen from a vase in the cafe), and a small piece of parchment with his phone number.

Next to the number, he had written, ' _I'd appreciate it if you called me to arrange our next encounter, that doesn't involve you taking my measurements. :) I know this is cowardly and rather childish of me, but I'd like to take you out some time. I'll be waiting. - Seb.'_

Anyway, that's how it all started.

That was how _we_ started.

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* * *

From the counter, I check the table by the window where he's seated. Yes, he's definitely here and I'm _not_ seeing things.

Old patterns die hard, or so they say.

One leg is crossed over the other, as he vigorously shakes his foot. It's a habit I've told him off for because he can't keep still. He does it subconsciously, either when he's bored or nervous. I'm voting for the latter. Of course he feels just as awkward as I am right now.

I don't know what to make if him being here. When I had come back to Japan, to begin fresh again, I willed myself to forget about him, to push the very thought of him to the furthest part of my mind. I didn't want to think about him. And it was hard. _Very_ hard.

When you've spent so much time with an old partner, you sometimes forget how it's like to be alone. Your actions, dreams, and thoughts often have to take into account your partner's wishes. Therefore, when you break up, it's like you're released from the shackles around your wrists, but because you're not used to dealing, and facing the world alone...you become distressed, lost and damaged.

The thought of Sebastian being in Tokyo is surreal, something that I had never envisioned or foreseen. Because Sebastian is a foreigner, I've caught numerous people sending him conspicuous looks once we had set foot in public.

I'm used to being with him, hand-in-hand, in humid weather as we'd thread through the colourful, vivid, busy streets of Barcelona. It's not the same seeing him here. Sebastian's appearance makes him stick out like a sore thumb, with his ethnicity contrasting evidently amongst the pale faces.

Facing him, in front of my apartment, had been mortifying. It was possibly the most mortifying thing I have experienced in my whole life.

I couldn't construct any sentences for a good minute. Almost everything had blanked over. I'm not one to faint, but boy, was I close to fainting. At least, if I had fainted, perhaps I wouldn't be dealing with this; dealing with him…

He had leaned in for a kiss, arm over my shoulder as if he could sense the waves of shock that erupted over my body. When I had backed away, he had stared at me questionably. I gave him a small smile, shaking my head in subtle refusal.

Sebastian had shrugged, but I had since the flash of hurt in his eyes, as he handed me the bouquet of orchids. Orchids that I had once loved so much.

When he had motioned that we go inside my apartment, I stopped him from opening the door. I hadn't wanted him in. I couldn't.

If we had went inside, I don't know what I would have done. I had instead led him towards the direction of the closest train station, that had a cafe I'd often frequent. After all, he always loved coffee. Every morning, I remember waking up to him making himself a strong black. He never was a morning person. And, besides the coffee maker was a mug of favourite steaming, _genmai cha_.

I thanked the cashier, picked up his coffee and my tea, and carried it back to the table.

"I wanted to see you," he starts, coffee untouched.

We had kept quiet during the commute from my apartment to the cafe. Ever since I had uttered that we go to the nearest cafe, which he had reluctantly agreed, we hadn't spoken a single word to each other.

Of course, the silence was bound to break.

 _Like now_.

"Did you?" I say, bringing the cup to my lips. I couldn't look him in the eyes. I didn't want to see the glint of gold in them, not when all I've been seeing lately is blue.

"Sora, _Preciosa_ -"

My taste buds become numb. I flinch, placing my cup back down. "Don't call me that."

He looks torn from reaching out to grab my hand, and I'm glad he chooses not to. Although he is pushy and confident, he never forced me to do things I didn't want to do. That is, until the proposal had come along…

"Can we start over?"

I bite my bottom, trembling lip. I hated this; I _hated_ him. How am I meant to react to this? What is he thinking? Why is he saying this now?

Why _now_?

I deflect him, "Why are you even here?"

Sebastian lets out a frustrated sigh, but he replies, "Work."

"Of course," I whisper.

"I've been working to get the company to open a branch here, in Tokyo, because I know then that I'd be able to see you-"

"What makes you think that I want to see you?" My tone is brutal. I hadn't meant to act this mean, but sometimes you need to.

Sometimes you have to be cruel to end things. Sometimes you have diminish the chance of hope because if you don't send the message across, your ex will think you're still interested. That you _want_ to be with them.

And that had been my mistake. Because I hadn't ended it properly.

I had left Sebastian, I had run away. I had left the country and left him with a heartfelt letter, expressing my feelings and the reason _why_ I had to leave. I had told him many times of how I felt about certain, particular matters - but he had brushed my thoughts away. He only thought of us, himself...but never about _me._ Never about what I wanted.

"Sora, I _still_ love you."

Tears are welling up in my eyes, listening to the anguish in his husky, broken voice.

Life can be _really_ ruthless.

The irony of it all is that, I had wanted him to chase after me when I had left Spain. Maybe I had been too conniving. Nevertheless, _if_ he had bothered to contact me, to call me, to follow me then maybe, _maybe_ I would have gone back to him. Scratch that. I would have ran back into his arms in a heartbeat. But, what hurts the most, is that he _hadn't._

And now...it feels too late. It _is_ too late.

But, as I scrutinise him, I remember the memories. The special times we've had together. Because I had been in a foreign land, and different surrounding, it had felt magical. It hadn't felt real. It was like an alternate universe, a place that only existed in my dreams. And, before I knew it, the dream had been over.

I'm not blaming him.

If anything, I blame more myself for it. It had been my biggest regret to not be honest to him, and not being strong enough to be more firm with what I had wanted for myself.

The initial shock of his swift proposal, moving in with him, planning for our wedding...it had happened so quickly that I hadn't even had the chance to breathe. Sebastian had been caught up in the moment, trying to build our future, how many children we'd have…and when he told me to quit work and stay at home and look after the kids for the rest of my life - I had _lost_ it.

I had been _so_ in love with Sebastian, that I had even lost myself. I didn't know what I wanted anymore, and for me who is used to being independent and doing my own thing, it was a big shock to the system.

"Sora? Did you hear what I said?"

My eyes broaden when I see that he's moved across the booth, and is by my side. I sniff, "Go away."

He replies, stubbornly, "No."

"I don't want you to be here," I whisper, sliding further away from him. "Not now."

"But I want to be with you."

I harshly glare at him, as tears roll down my cheeks. "Well, I _don't_!"

My voice is a decibel higher, and I feel people staring at our direction and I don't care. Screw it. Everybody already can see that I'm crying and that I've made a fool out myself. Besides, it's not every day and old lover appears at your doorstep - especially when you had never ended it properly.

"I love you."

My teeth are clenching, as I respond defeatedly, "Well...I-I can't."

"If you love me still," Sebastian knowingly says as he reads the expression on my face, "then _why_ can't you? After all we've been through, you won't even tell me what's going through that mind of yours!"

Perhaps this is why it's taken me a long time to get on my feet. A part of me will always love him. The guilt of leaving him still lingers. After I had been so horrible to Sebastian, what gave me the right to love again? How could I move on and go forward, when I had left him by himself to pick up the pieces? I don't deserve his love; or anybody's love if I'm like this. I truly am a bad woman. God, I'm horrible.

I had been cowardly and yet...he _still_ wants me back?

"Why?" I ask him, lowly.

"Does there need to be a reason why?" Sebastian says. "You already know I love you. And I-"

I cut him off, "I treated you badly. I left without telling you how I felt!"

"Which annoyed the hell out of me, to be honest," Sebastian snapped. "I was angry at you for ages. I rang up to cancel the venue, the catering and everything...but then I found out that you _already_ had done it!"

"I'm sorry."

I know nothing's going to change anything from apologising, but I can't help myself.

He furiously shakes his head. "And, just when I'm ready to confront and find you again...hell, you've changed your darn number-"

"I only changed it after a month."

"Yes! That's because it took me long to get over you leaving me. And, you know what? I read your letter over and over again, and it took me a long time to finally understand how you felt. I should have known from the hints you'd show me, how secretive you were about telling me to your family, and friends. Perhaps I wasn't good enough for you for them to meet me, seeing how much of an asshole I was towards you-"

"You weren't," I disagree. "It was me."

I look down at my lap, frowning at the tear stains on my pants. My nails are piercing into the palm of my quivering hands, from how firmly I've curled them both into fists.

"Regardless, I wanted to see you again because I realised that I _loved_ you more. I couldn't stay angry at you any longer because I wanted you back. I loved you." He closes his eyes. "And I still do, Sora. I really do."

The more he talks, the more my heart aches. I was broken, but perhaps Sebastian had felt hurt more than I because I had been the one who had betrayed him. And I...I can't return his feelings.

He opens his eyes again, gold glinting. "We can't start over, can we?"

"No," I say, biting down onto my bottom lip again. I'm bawling, but I need to stick to what I've decided.

I can't cave into Sebastian's wishes because I don't love him as much as I used to. I can't cheat him of his feelings, not when all that's been haunting my mind lately is Yamato's deep, blue eyes.

Sebastian's shoulders droop. He smiles, his infamous crooked smile. His eyes are teary, and it makes me choke back a sob.

At least it's _finally_ over between us. We've come out clean. Sebastian's gotten his answers; and I've attained my sense of closure. What lays before us the future, and time to heal our scarred souls.

Then again, what type of break up is _ever_ clean?

 _._

* * *

 **(a/n)** Sorry, guys! There's no Yamato in here, despite the brief mentions (if you get my gist). I've been harbouring Sebastian in my mind for a while. This chapter was hard to write. I had to really pull on my own heart strings to write this one. So it kind of hurt for me too.

This needed to be written though. I hope this sounded believable. Sora's a real basket-case at hiding her emotions too. xD

& a BIGGG thanks to _**SkuAg**_ for helping me last minute with finding a nickname for Sora. I didn't want to call Sora 'Bella' because it sounded too typical, so I selected 'Preciosa' since it had a nice ring to it (which SkuAg liked the most too!). The mixture of ' _precious_ ' and ' _beautifu_ l' just sounded like a cute nickname to use...so I couldn't resist it. xD

Anyway, how'd you find Sebastian? Like/Hate him? I actually adore him. I really love that a lot of you got thrown off guard by his appearance. Haha

The reason why Sebastian isn't actually mentioned throughout the story (well, in some parts he has been spoken of...but I had kept it minimal), is because Sora tries her hardest to not think about him.

I'll stop here. This was too big of an a/n. xD Might write the next chp to Lifelines next. Cheers!

\- flipstahhz


	21. chapter twenty-one: desperate measures

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter twenty-one

 **d** esperate **m** easures

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* * *

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"Takenouchi-san? Why do think our company should hire you?"

It's a common, frequent question that is often asked when one attends these type of interviews. And because it's tediously common, I produce a bland smile at the panel. I reckon my smile doesn't look genuine enough, because I'm disinterested. It's not like I want to be here. I'm happy enough working for Taeko; so applying for all these jobs is headache-inducing.

"I'm always eager and willing to learn new things. I work well under pressure and adapt easily."

 _Bullshit, Sora._

Regardless of it all, I keep on speaking _,_ "I believe that communication is essential for your employees because _Daichi Tech_ is a major telecommunication company. I'm a team player and my old manager praised me for my communication skills, which is an attribute that I will utilise to help the company grow..."

Anxiously smoothing my skirt, I wipe away the sweat from the palms of my hands. I hate bragging, but it's something that needs to be done when you're desperate. You need to look confident. I had my fair shares of interviews in the past, and sometimes you've got to bluff a little to make it.

Interviews never sit well with me. It usually is because of my nerves, but this time it's different. I really don't want to leave the jewellery store. I'm being forced out of the position that I had learned to love. I've gone back a step and I honestly don't know what to do anymore.

The panel consists of three middle-aged businessmen. They're all staring at me, judging me my appearance and it is _darn_ irritating.

One man is lecherous (I had seen him countlessly casting looks at my legs - to the point that I almost feel naked from his gaze), the middle man isn't impressed or too excited to be here, whereas the last man is leering at me dismissively. The latter man had been nodding to the other _male_ applicant next to me, but as soon as they had focused on me his interest had plummeted. What a sexist prick.

Said _prick_ prattles, "And why is that you have you had many jobs over the years? How can we give you a contract if you're always shifting from one job to another? From your resumé, it is shown that the longest you've stayed at one job has been nineteen months, with the shortest period being four weeks."

I refrain from rolling my eyes. _Stay cool, Sora. Stay cool._ I say to myself.

The prick is clearly being unfair because I'm a female. It's not something I tolerate. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

I calmly reason back, "From these various jobs, I have gained a copious amount of experience and knowledge. I don't take it as a fault or something negative because I have learnt so much from these previous workplaces. Since I've worked in many different fields, I've learnt that communication is the main key to any company or business' success. Therefore, it's only fitting that I had thought of myself as a worthy candidate to be considered working at _Daichi Tech,_ as your company is known for its communicating technology."

The lecherous one nods in approval. The middle one also seems pleased, lips curving upwards as he vigorously scribbles into a notepad. But, of course, the sexist prick isn't moved my words.

He challenges me more, clearly attempting to get under my skin. "What happens when you get pregnant? Will you remain a valuable employee to the team? Or will you quit and stay at home to look after the children-"

"I don't see what this has got to do with _me_?" I say, tone turning bitter. My blood is boiling. I'd rather be unemployed at this rate. This prick is being a _complete_ asshole. "We're talking about my strong and weak points and I think it is invalid and inappropriate of you to bring up me getting pregnant."

He retorts, "But there is a possibility-"

"Right now I am _not_ married. I don't have a partner and I certainly do _not_ plan on having a baby any time soon," I glower. I've had enough.

Kicking my seat back, I stand up and make my way for the exit. I'd rather _not_ deal with this; especially when I have a lot going on as it is...

"Miss Takenouchi! Where are you going?"

I slam the door, excusing myself out of the interview room. A line of applicants are sitting along the hallway, gawking at me. "If I were you, I wouldn't bother applying here."

Once out of the building, I stretch my hands up to the sky, bending my back slightly backwards and exhaling a deep sigh. Dark clouds form, billowing over the city. At least the grey, ominous sky is relating to my mood right now. It must be a sign from the Gods that this interview I had attended had been a waste of my time.

Just like yesterday, when I had applied for a different company _and_ the day before that one too.

In other words, these past three days of consecutive interviews have been tormenting my soul. I had been prepared for each one, but I had found ways to blow each individual one of them...and this latest one, I _actually_ walked out of it.

I blame it on the shitty week I've been having, which had all begun when Sebastian had shown up at my door step. And fast forward to now, four days later, and I've already screwed up three employment opportunities all thanks to me and my own silliness of not being able to focus. Can you blame me?

Because my ex had turned up out of the blue, I hadn't been able to focus.

In fact, I _hadn't_ known what to do with myself. My total amount of sleeping hours has rapidly declined (thank God for foundation), I've been restless, irritated, frustrated and not the slightest bit motivated. Takao had given me permission to leave during the work day for the interviews despite me wanting to be at her side more. I would have rather her tell me that I couldn't go. Let's just say I'm still kind of salty that she is selling the store. In a way, I feel like she's betraying me, even though everything literally is out of our hands now.

As if fate wanted to add to my drama, my phone rings.

 _Yamato?_

I immediately cringe when I see the flashing name.

My thumb hovers over the screen, but I don't swipe to answer the call. And, just like I've been doing to practically everybody for this week, I ignore him and let the call ring out.

A pang of guilt hits me, but I'm really not in the right state of mind to face him; or to even go on a date with him now that I've been preoccupied with Sebastian on my mind.

And maybe that's my problem.

After what I had done to Sebastian; I had made an oath to myself not to fall in love or be in a relationship, because I _didn't_ want everything to ache again. And, right now, Yamato's been treading in my waters and I don't know what to make of it and what to do with him...

 _If you don't want to go to the French restaurant I suggested, perhaps we can tone it down and go to somewhere more casual? Somewhere with burgers and chips. What do you say?_ \- Yamato

That had been the latest text Yamato he had sent me, prior to me ignoring his other messages. Because of Sebastian, I haven't felt like talking to anybody at all and it didn't feel right for me to message Yamato. Not yet, not now…

It's not just Yamato.

I, personally, haven't been able to face anybody properly because I lacked the energy and purpose to. Sure, I'd read my messages and answer phone calls for interviews...but nothing further than that. My parents are the only people I've been sending brief messages to. Miyako's sent me a ton of " _Are you OK? I'm sorry_!" texts, Mimi's still in honeymoon mode with Taichi to even bother checking in on me too. In a way, it's a good thing because she never was in the loop about Sebastian. Minus Miyako; nobody was.

And now he's here…

Acknowledging that Sebastian is somewhere in my own country, roaming the Tokyo streets is really eating me up inside. I had once promised him that I'd tour him around my hometown. Thinking about him now is even worse because, when I had said goodbye to him, after the meet-up and discussion at the cafe, I recall him telling me that he'd be leaving Japan tomorrow.

Him _leaving_...that mere thought doesn't sit well with me. It doesn't feel right because I don't like how we left things. I had tried to ignore it, but with each day that passed I've been feeling the urge to see him.

Which is why I absentmindedly find myself at Miyako's apartment. Although it's in the middle of the weekday, I know that there's still a chance that Miyako could be home. Nursing shift work is always changing and unpredictable. Even to this day, I can't seem to get my head around how Miyako does it.

I ring the doorbell.

After a minute or so, I'm about to leave until I hear a crash and other sounds coming from inside the apartment. The door opens and I see my friend wrapped in a towel, scowling at me. She's barefooted, and her hair is noticeably damp.

Miyako bristles at me, "Out of all times and places, it _has_ to be now?"

Behind her, I spot Jyou. He raises a hand in greeting, face pink and flustered. "Hey Sora."

I foolishly say, "Am I interrupting something?"

 _Of course I am._ Miyako looks like she wants to murder me on the spot and Jyou can't even look me in the eye. I resist the urge to smirk. Jyou already easily gets embarrassed enough, so I try to hold back my amusement.

Jyou stammers, "N-No! It's nothing. I'll get going."

He almost trips over his own feet as he pulls on a blazer, slips his feet into a pair of leather shoes. Jyou gives me a brief bow before snatching his briefcase and rushing awkwardly out of the door.

When my friend's boyfriend disappears from sight, Miyako's hands fall on her hips. She still has them on her hips as I welcome myself inside the house. I see a fresh pot of tea. I reach for the cabinet on my tiptoes, pulling out a mug and pouring some tea for myself.

"Want some too?" I offer, nonchalantly.

From across me, Miyako blinks. I can feel her impending wrath. She narrows her eyes at me, slamming her hands against the kitchen bench.

She seethes at me, "Sora, I messaged and called you and did... _everything_. Yet, you didn't use any initiative to contact me back! If I hadn't driven past the jewellery store to see that you were alive, I would have called the police by now. _What_ is wrong with you?!"

"Why did you give Sebastian my address?" I quip back, folding my arms and putting it back onto her. If she wants to get into a fighting match, so be it. But she needs to know that she's _also_ wrong in this scenario.

I mean, what right did Miyako have to give Sebastian my address? Why has she still been contacting him? It looks a whole lot suspicious if you ask me…

Miyako explains, "Sebastian was still on my FaceBook. He only contacted me recently when he told me that he'd be visiting Japan."

"That doesn't mean that you can simply tell him where I live!" I exclaim. "Why, Miyako. _Why?_ "

"I don't know. Sebastian's a nice guy, Sora. I thought that maybe, _maybe_ you'd want to talk to him. I didn't want you to regret it, and not getting to see him especially when he'd be in the same country. You haven't had closure and-"

"It's not about that," I mutter to her. "You can't decide for me what I want to do. Miyako, you're one of my best friends, but that doesn't mean you get to make the decision for me…"

"As one of your best friends, I happen to _know_ you," Miyako remarks. "You were never the same when you came back, Sora. Honey, you were damaged. Although you hadn't told Mimi or Hikari, even they noticed the change. They _knew_ something happened in Spain, and assumed as much without me even needing to tell them."

"It was something that should have _stayed_ in Spain. If there's no future between Seb and I, why should I bring it up to the girls?" I question her, even though I'm also questioning myself.

Miyako sighs. "Well, it's obviously bothering you. You not talking to anybody for days isn't healthy. Sora, you can't act like what Sebastian and you had was nothing."

"I never said that," I deny. "He's my _ex-fiancee_ , Miyako! Of course this is bothering me!"

"Then if you know why you're acting this way, why are you here?" Miyako asks me. "Do you want to have a go at me because you're feeling confused? Is that it-"

"No." I shake my head. My gaze drops down to the steaming liquid in the mug. "I...I actually want you to give me Seb's number."

Miyako points out, "But you just said that you had no future with him."

"Since I might never get the chance to, I want to see him before he goes. Take him around before he leaves back to Spain. It's the least I can do for Sebastian," I state.

"You really _are_ crazy," Miyako gapes. Nevertheless, she supplies me with Sebastian's number, jotting his digits down onto a post-it. "You're not thinking about getting back with him…"

"No."

"Good."

"Why?" I query, uncertain by Miyako's reply.

Miyako shrugs. "Sebastian isn't the only guy you've driven mad, Sora. Yamato's told me he's been trying to get a hold of you these past few days too. I had to give him an excuse that you caught the flu."

"Thanks."

"I feel like all these favours that I'm doing for you will eventually weigh me down," Miyako mutters, stifling a yawn. "You even stole some of my precious Jyou-time."

"Sorry," I apologise, feeling guilty. Miyako's been there for me in more ways I can say.

Miyako frowns. "You should be apologising to Yamato. He seems serious about you, Sor."

"When Sebastian goes, I'll sort it out with Yamato."

"Sort _what_ out?" Miyako raises an eyebrow. "Are you _together_ …?"

"I'm going now!" I suddenly announce, springing off the stool and pocketing the post-it into my bag. I hadn't meant to say it aloud, but Miyako was being observant as ever and had clung onto my words. "Bye bye!"

I escape from Miyako's clutches, pretending her shouting after me is nonexistent.

.

* * *

For the limited time we had from midday to this evening, I'd say we smashed a good amount of tourist attractions.

To name a few - or _a lot_ if I don't say so myself - we had went to Tokyo Sky Tree, the crossing in Shibuya (including meeting Hachiko at the station), Asakusa, Meiji Shrine, Harajuku, and even dared to venture into a maid cafe much to Sebastian's reluctance.

When he had accepted the call from me, Sebastian had been so startled that his tone pitched slightly higher. I suggested to him that I be his tourist guide for the day. It was kind of reckless for me to do, and I only found it to be a moronic plan when I heard his voice on the phone, but it had been too late to hang the call. Surprisingly, Sebastian had replied an enthused ' _yes_ ' without missing a beat.

Even _I_ couldn't believe what I had found myself doing. A promise was a promise though. Despite things had gotten bad between us, I didn't want to fail Sebastian. I couldn't leave him in an unknown city without expressing and teaching him about my culture, as he had done for me when I was in Spain. Besides, he was going back tomorrow and I...I most likely would never see him again.

Sebastian isn't a bad person. Yes, we once upon a time had been in a relationship together, but above everything else he had also become one of my closest friends. I missed having him as a _friend._ Perhaps that was why it had hurt so much when we broke up. Therefore the least I can do for him is to part on a _nicer_ note; a not run away. I don't want to make that repeat that mistake.

Yes, being with him for the day had been immensely awkward at first. It was like we both were trying to ignore our last conversation we had, dusting our cafe meeting under our feet and enjoying our last day together as friends. There were times we'd bring up memories, or things we did as a couple before deviating in a not-so-smooth manner away from our old status.

This task proved to be very difficult because people would _assume_ us to be a couple, and don't get me started on the numerous times bystanders would cast Sebastian (and me) looks because of his European descent. As the day continued, we got comfortable around each other again. The breaking point was when we had sashimi and sushi for lunch. I had forgotten to mention to Sebastian that the sushi chefs here often put wasabi _inside_ the sushi rolls and not on the side.

Therefore, when Sebastian had bitten into it, his eyes had widened and started watering. His face went slightly off colour and he had downed the glass of water in an instance. I had forgotten how weak he was to spicy food. I had often teased him about it. So when I had seen him spluttering after sinking his teeth into the _sake nigiri_ , while he had been suffering in pain I had peeled into laughter.

"I didn't think you'd invite me," Sebastian admits, shoulders drooping as he slouches over the bar counter. He takes a sip from the pint of beer, choosing to not look me in the eye.

I respond, "I didn't think you'd come out."

For dinner I had selected that we go to an _izakaya_ that was known for serving delicious, inexpensive _yakitori_. My father always praised that yakitori was the best partner for beer, and it is a thought I apparently had adopted.

I douse the stick of chicken with some of the bar's special sauce, passing it over to him. "Try this."

"Will there be wasabi?" Sebastian queries, uncertainly taking the stick from me.

"No." I laugh, "Just because you had one bad experience with wasabi doesn't mean every food has it."

"Who knows? That sushi chef was an expert at hiding it between the salmon and rice," Sebastian grumbles. He slowly rips a piece of chicken from the stick with his teeth. "Yum. This _is_ good."

"I told you so."

And with that, I clink my glass to his resting beer. This is my fourth beer that I've downed tonight, and my vision is a touch cloudy.

I give Sebastian a side-glance, watching him enjoy the meat. The facial expression in his face his hilarious. He is beaming like a little school boy, munching happily, dimples sharp and eyes shining bright. Sebastian gets like this whenever he eats something that he likes, that or _anything_ sweet considering he possesses the biggest sweet tooth I know of.

"Thank you."

"There's nothing to thank me for," I reply.

"You took me around." He says, "I was planning on staying in my hotel all day."

"Well, you know I can't have that," I smile. "I owe you. Think of all those times you'd take me around Barcelona? I really thought you wouldn't want me to show you around…"

"If I can't be with you, or date you...then I'll take whatever I can."

His comment is double-edged, but also tinged with his typical playful mischievousness. I roll my eyes at his childishness. It's too soon to joke about this, but I'm not surprised because it's a very ' _Sebastian thing_ ' to do.

Sebastian leans his right arm on the counter, resting his head onto his hand as he stares closely at me. "I gave it- _you_ a lot of thought. Is there another person? Is that why…"

"No," I quickly dismiss, despite not knowing the answer myself.

Yamato and I are keeping it quiet, but I doubt it will last long. Men like Yamato aren't suited for women like me - especially when Yamato's beliefs are not similar to mine. I'm more grounded and because of my confusion with what's been going on in my life lately, I had let loose more than I would have. I don't share the comfortable thought of sleeping with another person on a regular basis, making it a friends with benefit relationship like Yamato had with Jun.

If this is the reason why we're together; I don't think I can handle it. Perhaps I'm giving us a go because I'm enjoying our interaction as much as I can, testing the waters before our relationship will obviously break. I mean, how can Yamato and I base or relationship or, whatever we have together, when we had started off fooling around?

"There's no point lying to me, Sor. I know you too well. Especially when you were zoning out just now," Sebastian breaks into my thoughts. "Can you hint to me that he's a good guy, at least?"

I sigh. "I don't know, Seb. Outside he doesn't seem like it, but my friends trust him. I wouldn't say he's treated me badly either. He's kind of a charmer..."

 _Like you._ But I don't say that to Sebastian, of course. If I hadn't had alcohol in my system, I wouldn't have spoken about Yamato to Sebastian. Then again, it's always been easy to talk to Sebastian.

"Then what's holding you back? Why do you seem scared of my arch-nemesis?"

I bite my bottom lip. "I'll screw it up. Like what had happened to us…"

" _Ouch_ ," Sebastian says, but his lips are slanted upwards in a sad, but amused, smile. "That hits quite close to home."

"Sorry," I apologise, grimacing at how stupid I had been. I want to hit myself on the head for saying something so insensitive.

Sebastian advises, "No. Don't be sorry. You're being honest, and we were both wrong, you know? Perhaps we met at the wrong time, Sora."

Perhaps we had.

We talk more. Sebastian chatters on about how his sister is pregnant. How his family have been doing, and his mother's latest obsession with gardening. I fill him in on my current lousy unemployed status and how I had found it hard adjusting back to Japan after by absence. He still thinks I look beautiful; I still say he's a suave gentleman.

He puts on his jacket, zipping it up. Placing a hand on my shoulder. "I should get going. It's nearly midnight."

"I'll see you off?"

"I'm afraid I'll have to do the Cinderella on you this time," Sebastian states. "I can cope well on my own, and find my own way back. Makes a strong man, like myself, sound weak."

"Pathetic," I remark. He chuckles.

To my bewilderment, he leans in and kisses me...on the lips.

My mouth widens in shock, and Sebastian takes this to his advantage. Tongue slipping into my mouth. I close my eyes on instinct, savouring the kiss. It's familiar, warm and bitter and stirs feelings of old memories, pulling at my heartstrings.

I finally get a hold of myself, breaking away from him before I sink even lower. I glimpse a dash of hurt in his hazel eyes, as if finally confirming that we're over. The painful look on his face disappears, followed by a smirk forming on his lips.

"Parting gift?" He says cheekily.

Using both of my hands, I shove him away. However, I'm can't resist but give a small smile. I mouth again, "Pathetic."

I reach over to hug him one last time. He strokes my back. "All the best, _Preciosa_."

He gives me one last kiss on the cheek, before turning on his heel to go. I don't chase after Sebastian, or leave immediately after him as I'm still trying to formulate in my head what had just happened.

I blankly watch Sebastian leave.

My focus shifts when I gaze at a group standing by the entrance of the bar. My breath catches in my throat. The group consists of a couple of faces I recognise. Amongst them, Daisuke's sister is here and I also see the pianist that I vaguely remember from the Grand Hyatt.

However, it's when I glimpse a pair of blue eyes leering at me, my blood turns cold.

His arms are folded, continuing to stare hard at me for another second, before turning his back on me and hastily storming out of the izakaya.

 _Oh, shit._

I don't hesitate for a second, stumbling off the bar stool and running after him.

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* * *

 **(a/n)** Ah! I got this done on time. _Woo._ I wanted to release this before I go overseas. Thanks for reading! I couldn't leave Sebastian to have one chapter, so here's another. Haha. Yamato will come back next chapter, as you probably can tell from the last part of this chapter. This chapter turned out being longer than I expected. I feel like it's a filler, but I also think it was necessary. Sora's a real mess. But I think you've already figured that out by now...

I'll reply to reviews tonight or tomorrow. xox

Ana Maria: Thanks for reviewing :)

Guest (PP, I think, maybe?): Yamato's complex too, but the more I write about Sora...I find she is also complicated in her own way. It's both frustrating _and_ interesting exploring her character in this story. Not everybody falls in love once, and there's nothing wrong with loving more than one person. (well, maybe perhaps not at the same time...but you get my drift). And yes. Sora is definitely a heart-breaker in this story. Haha. Thanks for reading and reviewing :)


	22. chapter twenty-two: closed off

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter twenty-two

 **c** losed **o** ff

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 ** _WARNING: rated scene in the second part. it may be uncomfortable to read, so skip if you wish to_**

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As I dash past the group, to nobody in particular I say, "It's not what you think."

"Then what are we _supposed_ to think?" Jun mutters back, eyes flashing with uncertainty at me.

I don't pause to explain myself, breaking into a sprint.

Anybody can perceive me however they want to, but what matters is how Yamato sees me right now. If I don't find him now, I could lose him. And I don't want that that to happen.

Not just yet...

Taking an ex out is obviously a bad idea, but what was I meant to do? Sebastian was a dear friend of mine. Despite us not being together, I can't _just_ ignore him? Or I was supposed to? I don't get it anymore. Or am I wrong? Was it wrong that I meet up with Seb as a friend...especially if it was, likely, for the last time?

So does that make me in the wrong _or_ the right to meet him as a friend, especially when it was for the last time? Why did I have to make my life more unnecessarily complicated?

However, when Yamato's smouldering blue eyes had met mine...I began to doubt myself, my decision of spending time with Sebastian.

I had screwed up.

It was clear when I knew how much I _hadn't_ wanted Yamato to see Sebastian with me. It made it clearer how much I cared about Yamato and how much of an idiotic thing I had done.

God, I can be so stupid.

I scramble on and it's no surprise that the streets are busy, considering we are in the centre of Shibuya. People are flooding from both directions. I crane my neck right, to left, then at the famous crossing. It's there that I trace his tall stature, blond hair contrasting amidst the crowd.

The pedestrian lights fade to green.

I run.

" _Yamato_! Wait!"

Amongst the throngs of people I shove my way through until I'm a step or two behind him. My breath is ragged. As I reach out my hand out, my fingers barely manage to curl over his shoulder. He shakes me of and strides off. Yamato continues to sift through the crossing, threading through the herd of people and trying to make me lose his trail.

Gritting my teeth, I soldier on, wincing as bodies frequently bump into me. I can't give up - not just yet. I _can't_ afford to.

If Yamato won't speak to me, I'll just keep tailing him.

He turns to a less crowded street. I follow him. Yamato turns to around another corner. Then another. Seconds turn to minutes, and the silence stretches further. He knows I'm behind me, but hasn't dared to stop or to acknowledge my footsteps.

I can't stand it anymore.

My voice breaks out after him. "Talk to me, Yamato."

In the alleyway, Yamato swivels on his feet. In the dim lighting, I glimpse his pale complexion and taut jaw as he glares at me.

" _Please_."

"I don't want to." He growls, "I'm too pissed off that I might say or do something uncalled for. You should leave."

"Then _get_ mad at me," I plead. "I'd rather you get angry at me than have you avoiding me."

It's true. This side of Yamato unnerves me. It had been like this the first time we had met. His reservedness, his true intentions hidden behind his unreadable eyes. He became more decipherable the more I got to know him. He'd stare at me with amusement, laughter and fondness. Fooling around. Joking. Making love. I indulged in his warmness, his soothing laughter. Now his eyes are cool, face reserved, that it almost feels like we're strangers again. I don't know what he's thinking; and it scares me. I hate it when he's withdrawn like this.

He stares above my head, avoiding my gaze. "I've got enough on my plate. Sora, I can't deal with this right now."

 _Enough on his plate?_ So do I! Sebastian had appeared out of thin air, for Christ's sake! I've only rekindled my friendship with Mimi. And, additionally, I've lost my job! He thinks that I've got it easy? He hasn't even given me the chance to explain myself and-

"You were right." He slices through my thoughts, speaking in a formal, yet hard tone, "Perhaps we shouldn't have started this."

 _What?!_

He's not being fair. My eyes water, more because I'm frustrated - at him, at myself. "Stop putting words in my mouth. I never said that, Yamato. Don't you say anything about ending something when we haven't even tried being together properly..."

"Didn't you say that it's not the right time?" He darkly chuckles. "Oh wait, you never replied to me. Miyako told me that you were sick, but apparently you aren't."

"Yamato, I-"

He says, grimly, "And you know what hurts, Sora? I thought I'd give you some time, some space to let you get your head around the idea, the possibility of us dating. I thought that if I'd wait, you'd finally get interested in me."

"I never said I was _not_ interested in you," I whisper.

I step forward, he steps back. And that gesture hurts me more. Does he feel that betrayed that he had caught me with Sebastian?

Tears are falling down my cheeks as I stretch my arms out, pressing my palms on his chest. He freezes as I bring my head to rest on his shoulder.

Yamato draws back and voices out, "Come on, Sora, admit it. You aren't interested in me since it's obvious you like another person. If you don't like me that way, you need to stop it."

I cry, "It's not like that! Why won't you listen to me? It's nothing! We're nothing."

"You made out with him."

" _He_ kissed me," I clarify, not like it'll improve the situation anyway.

Yamato glares, "And you kissed him back."

His comment confirms it. Yamato had seen _everything_.

It hadn't been just the parting farewell kiss, but Yamato had witnessed when Sebastian had made a move on me. Even though I didn't share the same intentions of wanting to be back with my ex-boyfriend, from afar we would have looked like a couple making out. We probably did.

I close my eyes, willing for Yamato to understand. "He's nothing, Yamato."

Yamato narrows his eyes at me. "Then _who_ is he, Sora?"

I bite my bottom lip. "He's my ex. We...we were going to get married."

"And the plot thickens," Yamato chuckles obnoxiously. I hate it when he chuckles like that. He sarcastically remarks, "Looks like you're really over with him then, aren't you?"

"Shut up, Yamato. Just _shut_ up. Can't you understand and listen to me for a minute?" When he doesn't butt in, I keep going. "Yes, I was going to marry him, but I _ended_ it. We're nothing right now. _Nothing._ "

"Sure."

I snap. "You're being an ass judging me on my ex, when you've probably had more women in your bed, haven't you? I haven't judged you at all-"

" _Right_ ," he snidely replies. "Of course I haven't missed the looks you've given me whenever I'd speak about Jun. And I don't think I was wrong having that type of relationship with her either, especially when she was fine with it too. Our interests in not wanting anything romantic out of our get togethers were mutual."

I say, dispirited. "Which is the kind of relationship you wanted from me,"

"I never said that!" He snarls, "And Jun _wasn't_ my serious relationship."

"Then who have you ever dated seriously?"

Perhaps I've been curious about this too. It had been on the back of my mind, but I never spoke much of it out loud. If it wasn't Jun, who was it that made him avoid relationships for this long? There had to be somebody. Yamato is good looking and too smart for his own good. He would have had to have some serious relationship, other than casual ones, during some part of his life.

It had always bothered me. However, I strayed away from asking Yamato about this topic because I didn't want to give him the impression that I really was into him. I didn't want to admit I liked him, even though deep down...I had. It wasn't in my nature to admit whenever I liked somebody first because I hated coming off as needy or clingy. I didn't want to be judged or stereotyped as any of those girls Yamato was used to having flocking at his feet.

"So?" I arch an eyebrow at him.

"I don't want to talk about it right now, Sora."

"Then why question my relationships when you can't even talk about _your_ ex?" I snarl back.

"Because she has nothing to do with this," he says, stiffly.

"Then what difference is there between me and Sebastian in contrast to you and-"

"This _is_ about you and him because my ex and I are _over_!" Yamato's voice goes up a decibel.

"Well, _obviously_ you have feelings for her too if you're getting all worked up by this!" Shit. I'm jealous. "Why bother with me if you're still attached to her?"

"I _said_ I don't want to talk about her and I _meant_ it." He clenches his teeth. "This is done. We're done."

" _Yamato_ …"

I call out to him, but he keeps walking on. I'm close to running after him, but somebody grabs hold of my wrist. Gazing up, I see Jun. She shakes her head at me.

"Leave him. He's had a rough day, Sora. And him seeing you with another guy hasn't made Yamato's day any better..."

"This isn't your business." I frown.

"Anything to do with him is _our_ business, woman." I glance up, and find a guy with an eyebrow piercing, glowering at me in a rather intimidating manner. "I had higher expectations of you. This is why I told Yamato to never commit to one person...especially with somebody like you. I mean, do you just let anybody delve their tongue into your mouth?"

My cheeks heat up, thrown completely off guard by the stranger's comment. He doesn't even know me, yet his words hit me like a load of bricks of how pathetic I had acted. As well as making a fool out of myself in front of Yamato, I had embarrassed myself in front of his friends too. I don't think I can ever live this down.

Jun kicks him. "Don't make it worse, Akira."

Isn't it already bad enough? What can get worse than what has just happened? I was actually willing to turn a new leaf and had gained courage to step back into the dating game, yet here I go...and fuck things over. Typical Sora. I always do this to myself. _Always._

I laugh, hysterically. "Make _what_ worse?"

Not that I want to know. I've already screwed it up anyway, so I don't think that what else they say will get to me anymore.

"That you did this on Kaori's birthday." Akira shrugs.

 _Kaori._

Even Yamato's former old lover's name is pretty. Like her name, she must have been beautiful. Her name defines fragrance; and perhaps she's the type of scent that has kept Yamato in mist, making it impossible to forget about her.

"Who is she?"

Yamato's friends suddenly keep quiet. They must have thought Yamato had told me about his ex. And, it's obvious, that he does hold a candle for her if her birthday holds significance to him. It's very hypocritical if you ask me. If Yamato's getting all worked up over Sebastian, how is he allowed to have these _special_ feelings for Kaori?

Knowing that his friends won't give me an answer, I turn away.

Because what else is there for me to do?

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* * *

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It doesn't sit well with me.

Yamato's right. I _am_ crazy. That was one of the first words he had used to describe me...and maybe he's been right after all this time, considering I'm an _absolute_ idiot to have let this all happen.

Initially I didn't completely regret being seen by Yamato with Sebastian. I was upset that Yamato hadn't taken my word for it, to even _trust_ me when I said it wasn't true. However, as the week rolled by I continuously began to second doubt myself.

And having officially no job has made it worse. I haven't been working for the past five days, so nothing hasn't been there to keep me distracted (asides from my miserable job interviews that I _keep_ failing at).

Although everything in my life seems to be on a stand still, time continues to flow.

Despite it all, Mimi has called the other day in an attempt to cheer me up. I may have told Miyako everything in regards to what's been happening with Yamato, but it's Mimi who can sense my sour mood even when I don't fill her in with all the details. She caught onto it from the moment I answered her call with a mere, ' _Hello_.'

It's her second nature to intrude my space, to interrupt me when she is aware something is troubling me. I swear, Mimi has a sensor in her mind that lights up and flashes when she _knows_ there's an issue, like it's her sixth sense. She's prone to being there for me whenever it counts, having an uncanny ability for perfect timing.

Let's just say that Mimi was utterly baffled and confused when I started crying on the phone. Even she's not used to me breaking down. Because I didn't feel like speaking, she pointed out that we go out to grab a bite instead. After she finished work, Mimi had came over and delivered me a box of desserts instead (well, she actually made desserts and brought it over), claiming that her company was the best kind of company.

I didn't argue with her as I binged on the slices if tiramasu cake. She didn't even have to question me when she turned the channel to reruns of _Friends._

She doesn't push me to say anything whenever I get into one of these moods, partly because she doesn't know how to react to me losing it. Her silence is comforting. Sometimes it's not words you need, but somebody to sit with you in a comfortable silence. Her presence was what I had needed.

Additionally, to the moping around, the weather had transited to typhoon season. From my bedroom window, I frown at the horrendous weather with the sky being saturated in dark, ominous clouds. Alongside the clouds, I hear the clamour of thunder. Rain dispenses from the sky, falling torrents over the city.

A headache brews, the more I keep thinking. With the wary emotions attacking my mind, sleep is not coming easy. The pattering of raindrops quieten to a drizzle. The sound of the raindrops on the rooftop make me more restless that I'm finding it difficult to sleep.

Which makes it harder for me.

I can't stop thinking about him; and it aches like hell.

Yamato's been the first person, in a long time, to actually made me _really_ laugh. We've been through many odd, yet amusing, experiences together - from him almost running me over on his motorbike, to being my partner in crime when kicking Mimi and Taichi's asses at baseball.

He's been there as my conscience too. Talking sense to me, when my friends and family couldn't. A moral support, without meaning to be. Somebody I could rely on. Somebody I _almost_ found myself trusting.

So how _exactly_ am I supposed to let this go?

How am I meant to let _him_ go and act like nothing happened when he had made me happy?

Maybe it's karma. In all my relationships, it had been me doing the 'breaking up' or ending them. Maybe it's my turn to get a taste of my own medicine, to see the other side of the coin. Being rejected hurts more.

Deliriously, I crawl out of bed. Soon enough, I'm running out of my apartment and I'm on the street. My sneakers splash on the puddles as I sprint through the rain. It's funny because I don't even remember putting my shoes on...yet I keep running.

The wind howls, weaving through the tendrils of my hair as I make it to the closest train station. I get on it, then off. Change trains. Alight onto another. Exit five. Half an hour? And hour? I've lost sight of time again. Thunder rumbles as soon as I step out of the station. It all becomes a blur; but I keep going.

He doesn't pick up when I dial the number to his apartment, waiting for him to answer. I do it again, then again. He finally picks up. His husky voice croaks through the intercom. " _Sora_?"

I can't see him, but hearing his voice is enough for me to break down again.

The elevator opens and I stumble inside it. At the right level, I get off and hurry for his door. He opens it before I knock.

Again, as his eyes bore into mine. I feel like I'm getting smouldered. My pulse quickens and all I want, I see...is him. I want _him._ That's all I know. It may be lust; but it isn't just that. I want him to consume me. I want _all_ of him for me. He can't leave me. I don't want him to leave me. I don't want us to separate. I want us to be together...I..

Have I fallen for him this bad?

Yamato frowns at me. His hair is dishevelled, cheeks sunken and face gaunt, yet still devastatingly handsome. Through his eyes, he can see how much of wreck I am too. I'm shivering, head from toe. Pyjamas soaked in rain, breathless and eyes swollen. It's then that I realise that I hadn't even bothered to put a raincoat.

I shiver. "Yamato, I-"

I'm at a loss of words. Instead of ending my sentence, my arms loop around his waist. He doesn't oppose or resist me. His chin drops down, pressing against my head as he rubs circles in my back, soothing me. He lets out a satisfied sigh, and his warmth devours me. Having him this close makes me sob more.

"You need to go," he breathes out, but he contradicts his words as he holds me tighter.

I shake my head, refusing to move. "His name was Sebastian. I never loved him as I thought I did. He was always there. He was my pillar, and it was only when I left Europe that I didn't feel the same way he did."

He mutters, softly, "You don't need to tell me this."

"But I am," I hiss back, my trembling slowly subsides. "Didn't you want to know the reason?"

"Isn't it a bit too late for this? It's been a week. What did you want me to do? _Pity_ you? I'm not going to sit around and wallow over you...over _us._ I'm too old to be playing games with you," he bursts out, angrily. We're still standing in the hallway, but we haven't made a move to let go of each other. "What do you _want_ from me, Sora?"

"Please, don't get mad," I say. I bring a hand down the left side of his face, caressing his cheek. He's tense, but he still closes his eyes when I touch him. "I'm sorry..."

" _Leave_." He groans.

"No."

"There's nothing between us anymore," he replies, coldly. " _Go_."

I frown. "You're lying."

Yamato might want me to go, but his body language and actions are speaking otherwise. He could have not answered the door. He could have not let me in. I hadn't imagined how his breathing hitched when he had seen me. I hadn't imagined the unspoken attraction between us. And I'm _not_ imagining that we're still holding onto each other, daring for the other person to cease contact. I don't want to let go; and it's clear that Yamato doesn't either.

As if reading my mind, he lets go.

I tilt my head upwards, gazing at his face. The distance between us reappears, and as I think it's about to be completely closed off, his arm finds its way around my hip as he leads me further into his dwelling.

We don't make it to the bed. Hell, we don't even make it to the sofa.

Yamato hoists me onto the kitchen bench, peeling me out of my wet clothing and immediately I feel his mouth over my buds, ravaging my breasts with his both of his hands. I'm confused, but I'm getting turned out and if that's what I have to do to keep him, to make him stay, to make him listen...I allow it.

Between the kisses, he growls, "Isn't this what you wanted to use me for?"

Sex. He's _actually_ bringing it up now. Does he think I've been using him to get laid?

I shake my head in protest, but he reclaims my mouth, aggressively sticking his tongue into my mouth. I angrily kiss him back.

He exhales. "Then I'll _give_ you what you want."

I cry out, elbows straightened against the bench when he leans in closer for further access. I feel like a pawn, an instrument in his hands. Being lightly plucked and intricately tuned, like one of his guitars. He's not asking for permission; but I want it...despite how wrong it is, despite it not being the real reason. Luring him to forget everything, to pretend that everything is fine between us. I want to tell him that I'm not using him, but he begins to thrust into me. I let out a strangled moan beneath him, spreading my legs out and crossing them around his body.

No real foreplay, but unconstrained, burning lust and desire. There is no laughing between the forced, frenzied kisses that we normally have when we sleep together. Nor is there any warmth, or an amused spark in his eyes. Just rough and coldness. The love making hurts more than it satiates. His teeth dig into my skin as he thrusts relentlessly into me.

And I hate it. I hate every part of it. I'm turned on, yes. But I hate how cold, and how unfriendly it is between us. It's not like the other times. We're fuelled with desire, but it's not fun and feels more like a task to soothe our lust.

But I don't resist him. Because I want it. As petty as I am, and as I sound if this is what keeps him by my side, maybe I'll steep this low. Maybe it'll get better.

It doesn't.

I bawl when he climaxes, leaving me in a quivering state. He moves out of me and heavily breathes for air. His eyes remain glacial and disconcerting, watching me as I'm about to recover. And when he senses that my gasps for air has dampened down, he mercilessly drives inside me again as I bite into his neck from screaming.

Ecstasy takes control over me as I drown into a muddled frenzy. Curling my toes, I close my eyes and wait until it's over.

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What rouses me are throbbing spasms that radiate throughout my entire body. I whimper from the slightest inch or movement, carefully rotating to my side.

I'm not at home in my bed. The sheets are too smooth, made of expensive linen. They also reek of sex. Realisation strikes me as I remember what had happened and that I am, in fact, once again lying nude in Yamato's bed.

After last night, I don't even know if I can face him. I don't even think I have the energy to. I'm almost scared to look for him.

I had never witnessed Yamato act so spitefully. He was often level-headed, easy to talk to and approachable. The person I had slept with last night was almost like sleeping with a stranger.

When I'd think the sex was over, Yamato would keep going. I was absolutely exhausted and overwhelmed, but I didn't yell out for him to stop as he kept thrusting inside me. I pined for him and his controlling persona somehow turned me on even more. I was addicted to him. I _am_ addicted to him. Although it was horrible, I still wanted more of him.

His body isn't next to me. I can't sense his body heat. Where is he?

Maybe I'll just hide in this sheets and I'll reappear in my own place?

I wish.

I don't think I can face him right now. Not after last night. I don't know why I'm shy over this, why I'm freaking out - but last night had made me feel quite uncomfortable. I don't even want to face him right now.

 _Get on with it, Sora._

Taking a deep breath, I shrug on his bathrobe is draped over his desk chair. I need to make myself presentable at least. If we're going to continue fighting, I might as well have some dignity, even if there is very little left.

Each step I take sends sharp pains and aches throughout my body. Yamato really hadn't gone easy on me at all this time. He had let out more than steam. He had used me; like he claimed I had used him and I feel sick, both towards him and myself.

Nobody's in the living room; nor the kitchen.

I hoped that Yamato would be there, cooking breakfast. He isn't. After we had previously slept together, I had grown accustomed to him fixing us a meal afterwards. We'd laugh, flirt, share a meal together and sneak in extra kisses.

This time Yamato's not here.

For once, I actually feel like I've had a one night stand with him because there's not a single form of communication available. He hasn't even scribbled down a single note for me.

He has left me completely alone in his apartment. I bite my bottom lip, trying to cease the tears from rolling down my cheeks.

I don't blame him since I _have_ been using him, but I'm tired of this. People ask my why I'm not in a relationship? This is one of the main reasons why. Not everybody stays. People leave.

For the first time in my life, I've never felt so alone.

I'm the one who has brought it upon myself. I dared to stroll into a situation without a known outcome. I dared to play with fire; only to get burnt down. As I change back into my clothing, my spirits are low. My mood has plummeted and has spiralled downwards to pit bottom. I feel so down and worthless. I can blame him for it. I really could...but I blame myself too.

It's over.

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Last edited: 27.02.2018


	23. chapter twenty-three: support systems

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter twenty-three

 **s** upport **s** ystems

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Confusion. Rage. Hopelessness.

What do you get when you combine all three emotions together?

…Me.

Well, me as in my _current_ state.

Why is it that whenever I try to make something right, it backfires? Why do I find myself in these uncontrollable situations? A wise answer would be that I walk into them or that I _put_ myself in these positions. But that doesn't stop me from thinking _where_ I went wrong because it can't be possibly all my fault? Or can it?

You know? This is exactly the reason why I like to hide away from drama. Whenever drama looks me in the eye, I tend to bolt the opposite direction. That, or I'm _absolutely_ jinxed.

I know I'm not right with what's all been going on, but it doesn't necessarily mean that I'm not wrong either.

These thoughts have been polluting my mind for the past week and a half.

Days have rolled into the next, and during this period I haven't really left home at all asides from buying groceries, or enduring those scheduled (and failed) job interviews.

Let's just say I'm hibernating.

Nobody needs me anyway. Work's ended. I'm unemployed and there's no money appearing in my bank account. And knowing that there are no callbacks from potential employers, makes me feel ever worse - especially when you're well aware that nobody wants to hire you when you're my age. Why should I even by fazed my rejection? I'm too expensive to higher, or I'm over-experienced for any basic job. In addition, I _am_ thirty. Rejections are expected when there are multiple other candidates that are worth a cheaper wage.

It's darn depressing, if you ask me.

Curled up in my sheets, I take another spoon of strawberry ice-cream from the tub. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's the endless supply of ice-cream in my freezer. I never run out, and the variation of flavours is bottomless (it will be a different story when I'm living off my final yen of savings). My future is _really_ looking bleak. This form of comfort foods is definitely better than human interaction, especially when I'm not all that keen about burdening my family or friends.

I've learnt to keep going on by myself; even if I don't know _how_ to deal with myself.

Everybody is busy with their lives, so I don't want to intrude. I don't want to spread my plague of negativity because, it seems, that's what I'm all about these days.

I bitterly laugh, gazing at the small cracks in the ceiling. I've probably memorised every imperfection on my ceiling now. This downtime has made me more observant of my room, and even of me.

I'm tired of it all. It's time to restart my life. The thought of it is overwhelming, and I don't want to do it but at some point I know I have to.

I _need_ to.

Relationships, friendships, my career…everything's tumbled downwards, and it's been out of my control. Nothing's ever constant and maybe, all along, it's stability that I've craved for - something or _somebody_ to rely on - but I have none of that. Whenever I do have a glimpse of _something_ close to this, I end up being oblivious and stupidly pushing anything that is good away from me. I manage to do a _great_ job at destroying it.

However, it hadn't been just me because it had been Yamato too.

I don't have a photo of him, but on my nightstand there are a bundle of magazine interview cutouts I had subconsciously collected since I had met him. When he had nearly run me over on the street, I had felt intrigued by him - like I was a detective and he was a mystery that I _had_ to solve. I wanted to know Yamato; I had wanted to figure him out. I wanted to make sense of him, and I wanted to find similarities in him, as well as differences. He was somebody I had _wanted_ to know, and once I dipped my feet into the water...I kept getting attracted to him like a moth to lamp. The closer I got, the more it hurt and burned. He was dangerous in his own way. Alluring, perceptive and comforting and very _different_ from what the magazine interviews interpreted him to be.

The photos were compelled to show the audience of a bad guy with a bad boy attitude. One look at his image, you'd see him as the definition of rock and roll. Angry, rebellious blue eyes, tight jaw, and lips slightly curved. Not one mention of his popcorn addiction, or how torn he gets when caring for his little nephews and niece, how he'd help his best friend's partner of hiding evidence of car damage to avoid Armageddon, to being a person willing to listen to your problems, and not afraid to give an honest opinion back.

I remember how his eyes would dance in laughter. How he'd be mischievous. How he'd smile...yet, all of a sudden, how he had also done a one-eighty we had last been with each other. How he transited to that bad guy with attitude. A mask. Cold. Unwavering. Cruel.

It infuriated me how I had let him act that way to me. Yes. I've given it a lot of thought. I shouldn't have let him sleep with him, not when we hadn't talked through things properly...but it wasn't like I he reciprocated. I could have stopped what had crumbled between us earlier. I should have told him about Sebastian, and I should have been honest to him. Why hadn't I told Yamato? We had already passed the 'get-to-know' you stage, yet I hesitated and hadn't kept in contact with him that it had inevitably made my situation worse.

Though, that _didn't_ give him the right for him to treat me the way he did.

Yamato had gone too far. In fact, he had been a downright asshole. It was icy fucking, and it made me doubt who he was to me and who I was to him.

How many masks did Yamato possess? Who _is_ he? The kind uncle to Takeru and Hikari's children? The great, reliable friend that Taichi, and the boys, commend him to be? A resourceful, and over-protective brother? A talented musician? A person with mother issues? A jerk I've been sleeping with? Hadn't he been using me for an easy fuck?

...or is it me? Had it been me using him?

His words continue to burn in my mind. " _Isn't this what you wanted to use me for?_ "

I remember the way his face had contorted in grief, remorse and hurt as he had spoken the words to me. Perhaps I had read it wrong, but I had sensed something morose in his expression when he had made me cry out as he had thrusted into me.

Another person, another time, I wouldn't have let it get that far. I would have stormed off, and without the slightest bit of regret. Yet, I _couldn't_ withdraw from Yamato...and I didn't want to. I had wanted, no, _needed_ him to believe that I care - or cared - about him.

Does this make me a weak person? Am I really this stupid to go to these extremes to get him back?

I had always laughed, and poked fun at girls who had been too desperate, and would go to extreme measures to be with a guy…but does that now rank me amongst them? Talk about hypocritical. I'm just as bad as them.

What gets to me the most is that Yamato hasn't contacted me ever since.

The next morning when I had woken up, he hadn't been there. That was what really ate me inside. I had gone home and cried the whole day and haven't completely broken down ever since. Instead, I locked myself at home.

I had messaged the girls to tell them that I was sick (and to keep them from wondering why I'm MIA). My parents were a different story. They were harder to fool. When I had told them the same excuse, dad actually made me a container of chicken broth, because my mother _really_ had come down with a flu, and brought me leftovers the next day (I really should have never given my parents that second key). Ironically, my father, had witnessed me devouring a tub of of chocolate ice-cream in my pyjamas in the kitchen.

"You don't look ill to me," he had said.

It's a good thing it had been dad, and not mother, who had busted me in on my lie. When I hadn't replied, he had noted how swollen my eyes were. He had quietly taken a seat next to and murmured quietly, "There's no point crying over men, Sora. We're idiots. Which moron is it this time? Should I go over to his place and beat him up for you?"

I had laughed. "What makes you think this has to do with a guy?"

"Isn't that the reason why you came back from Europe last time?" He had stated. "You wouldn't leave your room for a month, nor did you even tell your friends you were home until two months later after you had landed a job with Taeko..."

My dad's very watchful of me. Perhaps it's because I'm his daughter and the only child. Sometimes he notices things more about me, than mother does. Dad has more of the _faternal_ instinct, over mother's maternal instinct. Mother's quick to yell at me, whereas father is more observant before he jumps to conclusions - something in my dad's personality that I've always adored about him.

"I-I…" I had stuttered. "Maybe you're right. How did you know?"

"You don't cry easily Sora. Even when you'd scrape your knees as a kid after falling off from learning how to ride a bicycle, breaking your ankle during tennis, or when Uncle Touya died...you never shed a tear. I was the one crying." My father had chuckled. " But it was when you had your first boyfriend in high school and you broke up with him, I finally knew it would be boys that would be the main factor to make you cry."

And he had been right.

But lately I've been crying over everything. All these years of brushing away my feelings are catching up to me, or is it that I've been a tad bit more sensitive now that I'm older? That's what my father told me (the older you get, the more sensitive you get). He had used that excuse to tell me when he had bawled his eyes out after watching The Lion King as a child when Simba's father had died.

When I chose not to respond to father after his comment, he had patted my back and proceeded to pour me some broth, placing it right next to my tub of my unfinished ice-cream. He had kissed me on the forehead, whispered an ' _I love you. Talk to me when you feel like it'_ , and then had left me on my own.

Father was good like that. If it had been mother who had come into the apartment, she would have interrogated me like a mad woman...but dad knows how to read the situation, he knows when I don't want to talk and he knows - that one day - I'll eventually tell him.

...And everybody else.

Now isn't the time to spill the beans about everything. I need to pick myself up first. I can't sit around any longer and continue to be a useless bum, nor can I be recluse forever.

I need to step back into the outside world, even if the first step to the world happens to be technology and social media. Isn't it ironic how crazy the people around you get when you're unavailable and not contactable in the social realm? Then again, I had been ignoring everything for almost week.

Kneeling over, I search for my phone that I had thrown under my bed.

Upon finding it, I switch it on and it releases a series of seizures onto my palm, continuing to vibrate with new messages and Facebook notifications. It's a surprise the battery hadn't died. I find that one of the notifications is from the group chat with the girls, the others are individual texts from them and rejection notices from companies I had applied for.

MIMI: _Sora, are you feeling better? I've made brownies. I'm trying a vegan and dairy free range with no added preservatives and natural cocoa. It's not too sweet, so I think you'll like it. Taichi told me to tell you that they taste good, but you know how he is...he says that everything tastes good because his palate can tolerate anything asides from his mother's cooking. Can you test them? Please? I need an honest opinion. You've always been my taster before I release them out into the market, so I don't wanna break the tradition. It'll cause bad luck, ya know?_

HIKARI: _If Takeru's worried that you aren't talking, then that's something. Are you alright, Sor? Can you contact me soon? Besides...I've got really good news for you! You'll be surprised. I promise._

MIYAKO _: Bitch. You're pissing me off. You can't have the flu that long because you're the healthiest one out of all us! Come to Mimi's tonight. It'll be only us girls. Chick flicks. If you don't, I'll tell everybody about Sebastian and Yamato. You'd better come. I mean what I said._

Miyako's text reads that it was only today she's messaged me. Hikari had sent me a message the day before and the ever so impatient Mimi, had tried to snatch my attention first (food is a good persuasion technique)...practically messaging me two days after I told them I'd be MIA.

Out of all texts, Miyako's threat hits me the most. _Bloody hell_. I'm in the process of attempting to be social again, then she _has_ to threaten me by using the two guys I wish _not_ to think about right now.

It's working because before I can register my plan of attack, I'm already dragging myself to the shower and getting ready for the movie night.

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Takeru answers with a, ' _Yo_.'

I immediately frown when I see him holding the door open for me, cradling a bowl of popcorn in his arms. Eating popcorn must be a common trait between the brothers.

In some ways, Takeru is uncanny to Yamato. His hair is slightly neater, but still gelled up in a quite dishevelled style. His fashion sense is less edgy. Replacing Yamato's accented leather jacket, Takeru has traded his look for something more casual, attired in a pair of basketball shorts and a plain, white shirt. And, like Yamato, no matter what they're dressed in...they manage to still look good.

His blue eyes twinkle, like he knows something - and I don't like it. If Takeru will be here the whole night, I know he's going to try and goad me about Yamato. The fact is, I don't know if he knows the recent update between Yamato and I. My bet is that he doesn't when he's looking at me in that roguish manner of his.

Scratching the back of my head, I crane my neck to address the other people who are huddled inside the living room. "You said it would be an all girls' thing?"

Not that I'm not pleased to see Takeru; it's just not the right time. I had expected only the girls; and that's all who I wanted to talk to. Frankly, I don't have the energy to deal with anybody else.

"He'll be leaving soon!" Hikari's voices out.

Takeru chuckles, not taking offence to my harsh words. He steps into my space and gives me a hug, regardless of how coldly I'm acting. He tries to warm up the situation because that's what Takeru does.

"Don't you think I'm one of the girls though? I do fancy a good gossip session."

I place my shoes on the wooden rack, stepping inside the house, and not replying to him.

The further I walk inside the hallway, somebody taps my shoulder.

"Hey Sora."

I look up. Again, another person I don't feel like talking to either.

It's Taichi. Taichi, who is brightly smiling at me with not a care in the world. Of course he's acting the way he would be. He doesn't know anything that's going on. If he had known, he's be bombarding me with an array of questions by now. I'm thankful that Yamato hasn't told him anything yet. Prior to what had happened between Yamato and I, I'm glad Yamato has respected to keep our interaction from our friends in the dark.

"Hello," I mutter, meekly.

Taichi furrows his eyebrows at me, suspiciously. "All I'm getting is a hello? You all good?"

If Taichi can sense something is wrong, I'm clearly doing a bad job at acting.

"I'm fine," I mumble to him. I stride past him, avoiding his eye contact, as I take a seat in front of the television. Although I can't tell, I can sense the boys and Miyako exchanging looks behind me.

Takeru intervenes, "We'll be out of your hair in a moment so don't sweat it, Sora-senpai. Taichi and I will be each other's date tonight, and _arguably_ we'll be having better night than you girls. Beats watching a romantic comedy, doesn't it Taichi?"

"Probably." The older man shrugs. "I'm still annoyed that I'm being kicked out of my own house though."

"Hey, today's my date night. Hikari goes out on a date with me every Thursday, because we leave the kids with Yamato, yet she's picking you lot over me." Takeru exaggerates, "Oh, the _blasphemy!_ "

"What will you be doing?" Miyako queries before Takeru gets the opportunity to rant even more.

Taichi snickers. "We'll be going to the place where serious men, our age, like to go to…"

"If you go to a hostess club, I will cut off your balls," Mimi warns, offhandedly causing Taichi to grimace.

Hikari takes a better guess, "Pachinko? Or maybe a bar?"

"Please tell me it's not karaoke," I murmur in my assumption.

Takeru and Taichi are _horrible_ singers. I've been with them to karaoke a few times, and I swear I haven't fully recovered from their singing. Their tone-deaf singing had seriously caused my ears to bleed.

"Even _better!_ " Takeru exclaims. "The arcade!"

Jeez. Grown, serious men they are. I can envision them getting competitive over how many stuffed animals they can win on the claw machines. Knowing both of their personalities, I honestly shouldn't be surprised by their plans tonight. At least it's better than a host club, getting smashed off their faces, or losing their money at Pachinko.

As Takeru promised, they're - _thankfully_ \- gone soon enough. Hikari selects _The Notebook_ from Mimi's DVD pile of romantic trash, and five minutes into the movie, Mimi shoves a brownie into my hand. "Try it."

I sigh. I've been eating junk all week. I don't think I can stomach this. Although it might have been junk I've been eating, I haven't been eating anything too heavy. The thought of biting into a sweet brownie makes me feel queasy.

"I can't, Meems," I reply to her. "I don't have much of an appetite. Besides, I won't give you good feedback when I'm not feeling the best…"

"That's why I'm telling you to eat!" Mimi snaps back. "You look like a skeleton. I know I haven't seen you for a while, but I know you've lost more than two kilos! What's wrong with you?"

And thus ends the movie. Miyako's given up. She stops the DVD from playing and glares at us. "Are we watching...or _are_ we watching?"

"Obviously not," Hikari sniffs. She swivels back on the beanbag, angling her body to stare at us. "A gathering? Chick flicks? We haven't done this for years and it's odd for Mimi to decide on this now. What's going on?"

Mimi starts, "I-"

"As in, what's going on with _you_?" Hikari demands, directly staring at me.

A shower of confronting gazes fall onto me as I squirm on the seat.

So much for a quiet night with the girls. I'm on the hot seat and I know, that this time, I can't exactly run away. They've got me trapped from all sides, and I know they won't let me go until I tell them what's wrong. Hikari's sitting on the floor, on a beanbag in front of me, Miyako's besides me on my right, leaving Mimi who had taken the spot on my left.

I really can't escape from this one.

"Why don't you tell me?" I give a weak smile. "Didn't you say you have news for me?"

"Cut the bullshit, Sora." Hikari doesn't often curse, and when you're on the receiving end it can be scary. For being the youngest in the group of us girls, whenever she gets maddened, I rank her as the scariest out of us. "I'm not giving you the good news until I know what's bothering you!"

I can't even make a lame excuse up. If I'm being attacked by one of the girls, I usually can put a front and get out of it on my own. But, right now, I'm feeling ambushed. The girls must have planned this from the beginning. This wasn't just the average girlfriend meet-up, this was a scheme to get me to fess up.

"Sora…" Mimi tries a different approach, addressing me in a soft voice. She puts an arm around my shoulder, moving closer to me. "You know it's fine to trust us…"

 _Why hadn't he trusted me? Why wouldn't he believe me when I said that nothing was going on with Sebastian? Why..._

Biting my bottom lip, I nod. If I speak, I'll shatter. This is the most I can do right now because if I utter a word, my quivering voice will sink me lower.

"Is it your parents? Are they alright?" "Or are you sick?"

I shake my head, as the questions keep flowing on.

Hikari also takes a stab at it, "Or maybe because you've lost your job?"

Again, I disagree.

"But you're seeing somebody, aren't you?" Mimi says. My shoulders tense up, and I can tell Mimi has noticed because her arms are one me. Mimi takes this time tolean forward, looking into my eyes and trying to decipher my thoughts. "Is that it?"

The expression on my face must have given myself away because Hikari gasps and Miyako shrugs, showing that she can't save me now. I had dug myself into this one, and there's no way out until I confess my secrets to them.

"Well, if it's Yamato...it's not that big of a secret." Mimi tells me, trying to gauge for my reaction.

She's taken my silence as a yes. And, to be honest, I'm too tired to fight back. What's the point of hiding it all now? After all, Yamato and I are over. There's nothing worth hiding anymore.

On the other hand, Hikari is gawking at us, clearly not believing what's happening. She splutters out, "W- _what?_ "

"How many hints to you need, Hikari?" Mimi laughs. "Come on, hon, it's been as clear as day ever since they met. Yamato's been giving Sora the eye ever since she ran in front of his motorbike."

My shoulders slope downwards, gazing at my lap. Noticing that I haven't responded, Mimi continues to talk, "I could be wrong, but I'm not stupid. I've seen the way you've been flirting with each other. Sora, you usually get annoyed when somebody holds you...yet when Yamato was getting you in the ' _right_ ' position in at the batting cage, I knew something was going on. I was...I was just waiting for you come clean about it."

I choke out. "There's nothing to come clean about. We're over, Mimi."

"You're... _over_?" Miyako repeats, frowning. This is a surprise to her as well, and she doesn't seem all too happy about being left out of the loop either.

"But you just started!" Hikari protests. "How? Why? _Details!_ "

"It doesn't matter," I say. "Yamato hates me now. I screwed up. And I am not exactly happy with him either. I was with Sebastian, and he found me with him..."

"You actually went to see Sebastian again when I gave you his contact details?" Miyako responds. "I thought just a phone call would have been enough, but you went to _see_ him. Sora! _He loves you_! What did you think would come out of it? And to have Yamato...oh _God_ , I told him you were sick-wait, did he find out?"

I nodded. "Yes. He saw me with him."

"Shit. Yamato spotted you with Sebastian?" Horror dawns over Miyako's facial expression.

But it's not her words that get to me when Mimi finally speaks up. "But...who's Sebastian?"

Oh. _Fuck_.

Miyako flinches. She can't help me guard this secret from the other girls anymore. The cat is _literally_ out of the bag.

"I'm guessing he's that guy Sora was dating in Spain. Actually, I'm sure of it. I always wondered how you were posting all those photos on Instagram, Sora." Hikari ponders openly. "Beforehand you took really bad selfies, then all of a sudden you had an influx of really great scenic landscape photos, with you being in the middle of them…"

Miyako tries, "She could have bought a camera stand."

"Nuh. Sora was never a photography enthusiast," Hikari disagrees, since she is the designated photographer enthusiast in our group. "I even remember seeing the reflection of the guy taking the photo-"

Mimi interrupts, losing her patience, " _Who_ is Sebastian?"

"My ex," I finally reveal. I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Can we _not_ speak about this?"

"And you _haven't_ told me?" Mimi bursts out.

"Does it matter?" Miyako defends me. "You're not upset about Sora keeping Yamato a secret, but you're more worked up about Sebastian, Mimi?"

"That's because Yamato and Sora were blatantly obvious!" Mimi cries out, "As for Sebastian...half-Spanish babies are _important_!"

"Mimi, you're missing the point," Hikari tiredly replies.

The right time; right moment - that rule never applied to Mimi. God bless my friend. She's taking this much well than I thought. I had always been scared to mention Sebastian to her because I had kept him from everybody, and knew that she'd be offended by me not being letting her in on the secret.

I burst out laughing. I can't do this anymore. Tears are spilling down from the corner of my eyes, grazing down my cheeks. It's a blessing that everybody knows, but it's also very hard to get across my head. I'm overwhelmed by everything.

Through my tears, I divulge them with all the information I've been containing. All the secrets. How I met Sebastian. How I fell in love; how I fell out of love. It's cathartic, letting it all go. It had been hard to bring him up ever since I had come back to Japan, but now it's a whole lot easier because I had let go...and because I cared about somebody else. I break down a few times throughout the story telling, each moment one of the girls would give me a hug, or pass me some tissues. It's awkward for me to come out like this, to feel so exposed but I needed it, and my friends had the right to know too.

As I explain every little detail to them, I can see that they're relieved that I'm letting the know, that I've finally got my walls down. My girls are my support system, always being there for me, but I...I had always run away from them instead. Yet, here I am, crying in their arms - and it's about darn time that I am (as Mimi never fails to remind me).

It was me that they had always went to when everything had crashed and burned for them; and now it was my turn to collapse and break down in front of them.

When the topic transits to Yamato, it becomes painful. I didn't want to reveal everything that had happened between Yamato and I to the girls and it's partly because they all _know_ him. I give them a brief summary of what had happened, and I withhold some information here and there. When I end the talk with saying that the last time Yamato and I kept in contact was when we had slept together.

My throat is parched by the end of it. When I speak my last word, Mimi finally opens her mouth. "You _slept_ with Yamato?"

And, just in time, there's a clattering sound by the kitchen.

We all turn around and find Taichi standing behind the kitchen counter, not even making a move to pick up his car keys that had fallen onto the ground. His arms are folded together as he's gawks at me in absolute awe. On the other hand Takeru is next to him, munching on some popcorn, watching us girls like we're the movie, not focusing on the paused screen of Ryan Gosling's face.

I want to hide. Out of all people, it has to be Yamato's best friend _and_ brother who had heard our girl talk.

"How much did you hear?" Hikari fumes. "What did I tell you, _boys_ , about respecting our privacy?"

Again, an angry Hikari is _always_ scary. Additionally, she's the only one who can yell at both boys and get away with it since one of them is her husband, and the other is her brother.

"Only heard the end part," Takeru divulges to his wife. "And I already knew they were sleeping together anyway, so it's not biggy."

"This _is_ a biggy!" Taichi almost shouts. "Yamato doesn't just warm up to anybody. And I...I haven't seen him like _this_ for years! So...it all makes sense now!"

Miyako blinks. "What makes sense?"

Taichi grabs Takeru by the collar and they leave out the door where they had sneakily come in from.

"What are they going to do?" Mimi groans as Hikari face-palms.

I give a weak smile. "Hopefully they'll go to the arcade."

But we all know that my wishful thinking won't come true. I still hope that whatever they're planning isn't too over-the-top. The last thing I need is two of my idiotic friends meddling into my private business.

Friends really are a nuisance; or heaven-sent.

I shake my head, getting off the sofa and giving them each a hug individually. Even though I hadn't wanted them all to know about my love life, it was bound to happen.

"But you like him?" Miyako whispers as she holds onto our hug.

I release her from my arms. "Right now...I really hate him. And I know you guys love him as a friend, but I don't want to see him. Can you please respect this?"

"What happened?" Mimi's lips curve downwards. "One minute you were talking about how infatuated with him, then all of a sudden you slept together...and that was that?"

"I'll tell you when I'm ready," I respond, voice quivering.

Hikari reaches out, squeezing my shoulder. "We'll wait until you're ready then. Thank you for finally telling it to us. You know we're here for you, Sora."

Mimi takes her position back next to me, rubbing circles on my back. I almost flinch as I remember how Yamato enjoyed doing this to me, finding my tense points and calming me down.

I've already spoken so much about things I had kept in for such a long period. Getting into further detail about Yamato and my final encounter isn't something I want to discuss about. _Not yet_. Besides, the girls are also Yamato's friend. I don't want things to get messier than they already are.

And mainly it's because I know Yamato isn't completely ice underneath his skin. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to be anywhere near him and am still pissed off at him for treating me the way he did, but there's more to him than meets the eye. He holds many masks, and I'm not going to ignore how kind he can also be.

One day, perhaps, he'll apologise to me.

And maybe, one day, I'll say sorry to him as well.

Just not now.

It's too soon for that.

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 **(a/n)** This one's a _very_ long chapter. It was hard to write this chapter after writing the previous chapter. It needed to be done though. Like the last chapter, it was painful to write.

Let's just say the last chapter had drained me because it was quite dark - even repulsive at times, for me to write. I had written it during my holiday, and I swear, my mood dropped too. So, I saved writing this chapter when I came back...but even then, it still took a while to produce the right words for this chapter.

Thanks for reading this far. I'll reply to reviews tomorrow :)

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P.S. On the other hand, I'm going to release a feel-good, light-hearted Sorato one shot this week. Because this story had gotten dark, the light-hearted plot had knocked on my mind one night, and needed to be written...so keep an eye out for it.

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REVIEW REPLIES:

Guest: Yes, I think it was quite abuse-victim-y so I'm not surprised by your reaction. It wasn't a chapter to be completely fawned over because it was a bad one and wasn't pleasant to write at all. People make mistakes. And, in this case, it was a horrible one. Thanks for reviewing despite it all. xD

Ana Maria: Wait? Is your boyfriend called 'Sebastian'? (haha. Sorry, using google translate is fun). Sora did make a mistake, but Yamato also made a big one too. If anything, Yamato's more at fault here. Thank you for reviewing!

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	24. chapter twenty-four: judging character

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter twenty-four

 **j** udging **c** haracter

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Asides from unhealthily binging on ice-cream, the one other thing that never failed to make me feel better was running. Somewhere, over the time, I had neglected my regular routine of how running _had_ , in fact, kept me regulated and sane.

Halting from my run, I bend over and touch my knees, raggedly panting to catch my breath. I had only started exercising ten minute ago, yet I'm already struggling. I'm not as good as I used to be. This is clearly the consequence of not being active. I'm disgusted at myself of how unfit I've become. It's been so long that I don't even remember when I had started this awful inactive streak. Truth be told, I have an inkling it might have been before Europe. If that's the case, it really _is_ awful.

The feel of my sneakers crunching on the gravelly footpath, the breeze strongly hitting my face, the perspiration and my pulse ascending whenever I'd increase my speed. Running made me feel complete. It cleared my mind, reduced my anxiety levels, my restlessness and my silly doubts. Running made me strive to become better, as I'd fight against myself, forcing myself to get faster. It's rejuvenating.

It's day three of getting back into this habit. Every morning, at the crack of dawn, I'd wake up and go for a daily sprint. Running was beneficial to me. It got me moving, and because I'd start my day on a productive note, I'd get more thing ticked on my daily to-do list.

" _To get out of your funk, sometimes you've got to remember what you like. Your old hobbies. Something that makes you happy, Sora."_

Mimi had reminded me how much fitness contributed to me as a person.

In elementary I was a part of the girl's soccer team. During high school I had been ranked as one of the top sprinters in the school. And during my college years, I had joined a recreational tennis club.

From all three, what remained constant and a continuous factor in my life was my _need_ to run.

I wipe the sweat from above my brow, watching the sun slowly rise above Tokyo Bay. I smile at the cute, tiny cars commuting across the Rainbow Bridge. Has Tokyo always looked this pretty?

"Morning jog?"

My attention spans towards the newcomer. Sans his typical black-framed specs, and formal suit attire, Jyou's attired in a shirt (that's two size bigger than him, as it drapes over his lean, tall frame), navy sweat shorts and white runners. This is the most casual I've ever witnessed him in that it's _almost_ funny.

"Hey Jyou!" I greet the doctor. "I forgot you lived in Odaiba."

He grins. "Yes. I forget too, since I'm eternally working. It's my day off, so I thought I'd take in as much sunlight as I possibly could."

"In the morning?" I query.

"I don't want to get sunburnt. Did you know that over the years, studies convey that the UV rays are getting more vicious? Skin cancer is becoming more prominent in our society and we must take extra precautions to protect ourselves from the sun." He explains to me.

I reply, "That's why sunscreen exists."

"True, but sometimes it's enough. I pick this time to jog because the UV rays aren't as harsh in the morning, as opposed to the day time. It's better to be safe than sorry, you know?"

"That's a good motto to live by," I acknowledge, trying hard not to smirk. "You don't have work today?"

"No. However, my day's already filled up. I need to pay some bills, do my groceries, water the plants, mop the floor...isn't it ironic that even on a day off, one can be busy?"

I laugh. He does have a point. I'm still getting used to Jyou. We haven't talked much, so it's nice to catch him on his own for once. He's been a new addition to the group ever since he started dating Miyako. It's nice having him around, despite him always being busy, because he's the most reasonable, understanding and mature one out of the guys. Perhaps it's because he's a doctor?

"Tell me about it. It's the adult life," I comment.

"And back then we thought that being a kid was hard. It's the adult life that is ever so draining," Jyou complains. "There is never _not_ enough time."

"If only we had more of it," I sigh, kicking a stone.

Jyou offers, "Do you want some water? I was about to grab a bottle…"

"Sure. I'll give you some coins." My hands sift through my pockets, frowning when I find that I don't have any loose change on me as. "Darn. Left my wallet at home."

"No worries." Jyou waves me off. "I'll buy you one."

"You sure?" I ask.

"Positive."

I smile, thanking him.

We locate the closest vending machine and he gives me my bottle first. Although I had only been running for no more than ten minutes, the cool water running down my throat and makes me feel more awake and energised.

"How's the new job?" Jyou questions, following my lead as we leisurely stroll along the footpath.

"It's _alright_ ," I say. Hikari had _really_ saved my ass for getting me the job. "For the mean time, it'll work until I find something else to do."

"Then you're not enjoying it?"

"I don't mind it." I reason out. "Sometimes I wish I could do something that has more meaning. Perhaps even something more specialised? I don't know. Don't get me wrong, I do love brewing a good coffee...but I don't think I can do it forever. I get jealous that you guys have an occupation that is more specific. Miyako's an emergency nurse. Mimi's a patisserie. Hikari runs a childcare. And what am I doing? Serving coffee."

Jyou doesn't butt in. I appreciate that he's actually taking my words into consideration and is _listening_ to me. If it had been Taichi, he would have protested or interrupted by spiel by now. Talking to the girls...they wouldn't get it. For as long as I've known them, they've always been goal-orientated to the current career they had. They knew what they wanted, and they worked hard to get to where they were. On the other hand, I hadn't - which was mainly because I had been directionless.

"If it helps, it took me a lot of trial and errors to figure out what type of surgeon I'd be," Jyou tells me. "I never liked the sound of grinding bones, so orthopaedics was out. Paediatrics always scared me because I always had nightmares of accidentally killing kids on the table, and having their parents skewer me alive. Oncology is too darn depressing. Yet, somewhere along the line, I found my niche in cardiothoracics."

"What made you want to be a cardio surgeon?" I query. I had never been given the opportunity to ask him, so I thought that I'd might as well ask him now.

"When I was an intern, I vividly remember the doctor operating on a patient who had a low percentage of surviving. It was my first surgery to witness in real life. He somehow saved him. The operation took hours, so long that I almost fainted. The surgeon's persistence and hard work inspired me, and I knew that this was the type of surgery I wanted to specialise in." Jyou gives a gentle, absent-minded simper. "Seeing that the surgeon added more years to the patient's life amazed me, and it made me realise how vital an organ like the heart can be."

"I don't know how you do it," I respond. "When I see blood, I can get light-headed. Still, I admire that this experience helped you realise your goal."

He nods. "Sora, you'll find what you want to. All you have to do is keep trying."

 _Easier said than done._

Jyou sees the discouraged look on my face and chuckles. "You'll be fine. One of these days, you'll find something. You might be surprised because it could be something that's been waving at your face all along. I mean, would you rather keep searching for what you want to, than commit to an occupation that you completely hate?"

"You do have a point," I agree with him.

This is probably why Miyako fell for Jyou. He Jyou grounds her. Jyou's sensible, reliable and practical. All appealing attributes when Miyako can be the opposite. Jyou might look like he has a strict-uptight ethic on the outside, but there are certain things about his personality that I find quick-witted, wise, and amusing. Maybe in his past life he was a careers advisor? To be honest, I wouldn't be all that surprised if he had.

"Anyway, I'm afraid I have to leave now." Jyou stands up. "I promised I'd make Miyako breakfast before she got home today."

"That's right! She's been on night shifts!" I suddenly realise. "Send her my love."

He winks. "Will do."

As Jyou leaves, jogging to the opposite direction, I take this opportunity to stretch. I can't slack off any longer. Although I can't figure out what I want, at least I know that I'm in the mood for a run. I ready myself, leaning forwards and take off.

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* * *

"A medium cappuccino please."

I tap the order onto the screen. "Three hundred yen please."

"Here ya go, Sora."

When I turn to face the customer, the first thing I notice is the woman's pixie hairdo. Not many females can pull this look off. Her hair is also copper. Again, not a common colour...and the only person I know who can get away this look, is the exact person standing in front of me.

"Jun?" I blink.

She drops the exact amount of money into the palm of my hand. "One sugar too."

Out of all people, I had not anticipated her making an appearance at this mini cafe. I take the money, dropping each coin into the designated spot of the register. I can't meet her gaze...not after our last encounter.

It's embarrassing.

She had seen me with Sebastian, and the disappointed, bemused look on her face is still burning in my mind.

Although I want to ignore her, I can't help but be civil. She's not completely a stranger to me, so I don't want to come off as rude...especially when she's Yamato's friend _and_ Daisuke's older sister.

I clear my throat as I begin making her coffee. "What brings you to this side of town?"

She wants to see me. I already know this. And, most likely, it probably has to do with Yamato. Why else would she be here? I mean, there are no other applicable reasons I can think of for Jun being here.

Jun couldn't have possibly just been 'walking by' here because this cafe isn't located in the central district, positioned between various office buildings in the business district. Although I had only been working as a coffee barista as of recently, I knew this place inside-out...especially when it had used to be Taeko's old jewellery store.

The cafe takes a small portion of the building. A few walls have been added, some knocked down, but what takes most of the space now belongs to the childcare. And, if you _must_ know, the childcare is owned by Hikari and Takeru.

In a sense, I'm saddened that the jewellery store had been discontinued. However, I'm happy that the land is in safe hands. It was a smart business move on Hikari _and_ Taeko's behalf. With offices surrounding the area, placing a childcare in the centre of the district brought good business because working parents could drop off their kids before work, and pick them up afterwards. The childcare had become popular within the short time it had opened.

Since I had been jobless, I had helped out. I went on sporadic trips with Hikari to IKEA, picking out furniture. I assisted repainting the walls (again), and I had even come up with the idea of having a small coffee section. Of course, with the suggestion, Hikari thought it was only fitting that I work as a coffee barista.

It was a perfect idea. Parents would purchase coffees when dropping their children off. Businessmen and women would also pop by to get a coffee, and _somehow_ I managed to sell jewellery and flowers on the side. In the small space, I had designated the counter to display Taeko-san's jewellery, and my parents arranged a few buckets of fresh flowers to be delivered every morning to the cafe well. The jewellery and flowers brought life and colour into the business district. Mothers would get lured into buying the jewellery (it was a good selling tactic thanks to Hikari's suggestion), and businessmen would sometimes rush to buy bouquets when they had forgotten anniversaries or their partner's birthdays.

Anyway, let's get back to why Jun is venturing on this side of the town…

"I wanted to try the coffee," she lies.

I give a dry laugh. "You do realise I use the same coffee beans as Daisuke's restaurant?"

"Well...you asked me a question with a predictable answer," Jun murmurs, sighing. "I wanted to see you of course."

"If it's to tell me off or reprimand me, there's no point." I say, stoically, keeping a watchful eye on the frothing milk. "Yamato and I aren't talking anymore if you hadn't known that already."

I may be coming off as blunt to her, but I don't really want to deal with games. If there's something Jun wants to say, I'd rather her spit it out.

"Which is why I'm here."

" _Oh_ ," I dully respond. I hand the steaming styrofoam cup to her. She takes it in her hands, but doesn't move to leave.

Yamato isn't a person I've been wanting to think about. After I had broken down, I had sworn to myself that I wouldn't let him get to me. I had stored him away in a box, in the back of my mind, and I wasn't willing to open the box just yet.

Since she's not going anywhere, anytime soon, I lift up my gaze and I immediately feel her eyes bore into mine. "You guys need to stop avoiding each other and talk it out already."

I bite my bottom lip from immediately snapping back at her. I'm furious. What gives her the right to tell me what to do? Who does she think she is? And _why_ is she ordering me around?

Taking a deep breath, I reply, "Is this really your business? If Yamato's putting you up to this…"

"No, he isn't," Jun declines. "It's my idea."

"Why should I listen to you?" I whisper, "You don't even know me…"

I just want Jun out of my sight. I'm trying to be calm and civil, but she's putting me at edge because she had ambushed me at work. It's a good thing the children are inside and it's early afternoon, which means none of the parents have finished work to fetch their children and witness me make scene. I don't want to, but if Jun pushes me any further, I will.

No hard feelings about Jun, but I am in no mood to talk to her and _especially_ about Yamato.

Just...not yet.

"Sora, I-"

"No," I cut her off. "You hear me out. You saw me with Sebastian, my ex. You put the pieces together. So Yamato is infuriated with me because of it, which means it's my fault, alright?"

I'm not giving much leeway to save myself from appearing like the culprit, but I'd rather be the bad person so that she can get mad at me and leave me the hell alone. At this rate, I'm willing to say anything to get Jun to go away.

She scoffs at me. "Bullshit. I call bullshit on you. I gave you the benefit of the doubt. The other boys mightn't have believed it, but I know there's more than what meets the eye with you. You're a much better person than that."

"Am I?" I seethe back. "How can you be sure?"

"I'm good at judging character."

"Please," I snort.

"Don't tell me I've been covering your ass for this long, and this is all I get?" Jun huffs.

"I didn't tell you to cover my ass!" I cry out. "I don't care how everyone in your group perceives me. Yamato and I are done! There's nothing going on between us."

" _Right._ "

"Fucking hell, Jun!" I heave out, getting more irritated by the second.

She chortles at me. "Oh, so you're finally cursing. I was waiting for you to drop the f bomb."

Rolling my eyes, I continue, "You can see how me however you want to, but you don't know me well enough to get the full picture. I could be a horrible person. I think I'm a bit of a bitch at times. You don't even know if I sleep around, or if I go for men with money. Maybe I only wanted to get into Yamato's pants because he is a celebrity…"

"Which is what I call bullshit on again," Jun interrupts me. "Daisuke says you're picky with guys. He says you're the old-fashioned type, and not a tart who will sleep with anybody."

"Daisuke's wrong."

"Ha," Jun replies. "I don't think so. If you were a bit of a slut, you wouldn't have blushed when I suggested a threesome."

 _Oh. My. God._

Doesn't Jun have a filter? If the door or the window was open, the kids inside might have added a new word to their vocabulary. They might end up counting: one, two, _threesome_ as opposed to one, two, three.

 _Head out of gutter, Sor._

If anything, I'm just bad as her. As Jun had said, I had even dropped 'the f bomb'.

"Can we _not_ talk about this?" I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling my blood pressure rise.

All I had to do was get Jun out of my face, but even when I'm trying to be mean as I possibly can, she's putting up quite a battle.

Perhaps Jun takes the hint when she sees me exhaling and inhaling. That, or probably the lines on my forehead by how stressed out I am about this whole ordeal.

She reached out, touching my arm, voice softening, "Look, Sora, I admit that I don't know what happened between you and Yamato. I also know it isn't any of my business, but...Yamato's hurting."

"It's not always about him," I say after taking in Jun's words. "He hurt me too. He screwed me over more than I screwed him, and that's not just figuratively speaking either."

It's dark humour, but it's been my saving grace as of late.

"Then what do you want him to do?"

I frown. "I just want him to stay the hell away from me."

"He's doing that."

"Then let him keep doing it then," I respond, bitterly. "It didn't stop him from right after the incident. He didn't even apologise. Not once. It was like he wasn't even himself when we last were together…"

I bite my tongue, not wanting to say anything else. I've rambled too much, saying too many things to Jun that I had wanted to keep hidden. Although, something that I have said has made Jun perk up.

Her eyes gleam as she raises an eyebrow at me, repeating the words, " _Not himself?_ "

"Yes," I say, dumbly as I don't know what else to reply. "Then again, how am I to know what goes in that mind of is since all we were doing was screwing around…"

Jun denies, "That's not true."

"Please Jun. I really don't want to argue with you anymore." She's just as stubborn as Daisuke. The more I exchange words with her, the more I can feel an incoming migraine forming.

"If you think Yamato only saw you as a good lay, then you're wrong." Jun mutters, "You were the only person that kept up with him. You were the stable factor that had kept him from withdrawing more than usual."

"Me? Stable?" I reply in disbelief. I'm anything but.

Jun corrects, "Well, compared to everything else in his life."

"So?"

"I just want you to know that too." She lets go of me, taking a sip from her coffee that's most likely turned lukewarm by now. Her voice is weaker now, not defeated - but _tired._ "If you think I only came around to stir you up, those weren't my intentions. He just...he's going through some shit right now, and we-I...well, he could do with another helping hand right now."

"Why are you telling me this?" I groan.

"Because you care about him, don't you?"

Her words echo in my mind as she leaves the cafe. Why is she telling me this? Does she expect to continue where Yamato and I dropped off before everything spiralled downhill? But I hadn't disagreed with her statement, her last sentence that kept me speechless. I'm meant to be enraged at Yamato. Peeved even. After all these months, I continue to still loathe yet.

Despite it all, why couldn't I be against the idea that I still cared about him?

Don't get me wrong. I still won't see him. I refuse to. I'm not ready to face him yet, and maybe I never will. But the thought of Jun having gone out of the way to find me, to tell me that Yamato's not coping - then something's got to be really eating him, and I'm certain this has been happening with him prior to us meeting. There's been always some mystery, something looming around him that he has never spoken to me of. Something else has got to be bothering him, and I know it's not entirely about me.

You know what? Yamato can deal with this his own. He's an adult, for Christ's sake. I have my own life to live, and I can't do it if I keep thinking about him.

I mean, why should I care about him when _he_ was the one who left me?.

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 **(a/n)** A kind of filler? (and because I was meant to add more to the chapter, but it just didn't mesh well).

Anyway, sorry for the delay! A lot of things happened. And by a lot, I mean _a lot._ I can't even say there were any positives, and I'm surprised I've held it together despite it all. But whatever. Enough of the pity party to myself...I hope you had a great Christmas and wishing a VERY late New Year xD

This chapter probably needs to be heavily edited (esp since I'm so rusty at the moment). I don't think Yamato will be in the next chapter. Probably the one after. There is a lot happening on his side of the story at the moment, which was why I had started the parallel story 'Lifelines'. I knew that I couldn't depict everything from Sora's POV well in regards to Yamato's issues, which was why the parallel story had to be done.

A big thanks to those who have been patient. New readers. Old readers. People reminding me this story exists (lol). I was astounded going back online and finding my inbox had been flooded xD Thank you.

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 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

hartmatters: thanks for reading it all in one go! trust me, that's me right now. i told myself one more word...then this whole chapter came about and now it's 7am (then again, i've been on night shifts). xD

dikus: this story really is a messy creation. i hadn't expected it to get this messy. -_-" as for Hikari's secret, it's kind of revealed in this chapter. thanks for reviewing!

guest: thanks for letting me know. i thought i had put a disclaimer.

Ana Maria: your boyfriend's name? that is quite funny. i've always liked the name 'sebastian'...so when i was writing his character, he turned out being nicer than i had anticipated. yamato's pretty secretive with a lot of what goes on his life, and is selective of what he wants to share with others. that's why his character is quite grey at the minute. thanks for reading xox

( _will reply to the logged-in reviews later on today/this week_ )


	25. chapter twenty-five: anything but civil

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter twenty-five

 **a** nything **b** ut **c** ivil

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Koushiro hadn't been born rich, but he had been born a genius.

His hard work had paid off in the end, as he had invested most of his childhood and adolescence pouring over complex coding, and spending his time programming, which had gotten him to where he currently is today. People would have laughed at him prior to his success, taking for granted the silent, tech-savvy kid, with spiky hair, navy-brimmed spectacles, and a hunched back, as he'd work his slim fingers speedily across the keyboard, typing excessive amounts of characters that is was almost impossible for the human eye to trace.

Nobody would have expected Koushiro to grow up into such a wealthy man, or to look taller with his straighter back (after episodes of back pain had forced him to see a physio who had constantly drilled him with exercises to fix his posture). He had resorted to replacing his glasses with contacts, which made his eyes shine brighter and ever so handsomely. Additionally, his once nearly-empty bank account was now overflowing with funds, that would make the combination of Mimi, Hikari, Miyako and my own savings bunched together look like a needle in a haystack when compared to him.

And despite the four of us girls fatefully _never_ going to top Koushiro's wealth in our lifetimes, here we were in the middle of the mall, browsing unnecessarily through dresses that were beyond our spending range.

"Does this look too simple for a thirtieth?" Hikari held up a simple pale pink dress against her front, arm dangling over her body as she stretched it high above her head to prevent the dress from sweeping the marble, tiled floor.

Mimi replies, "It's long. There's nothing flashy about it. Doesn't even show any cleavage, Hikari. If you're going for the Virgin Mary look, then it's you."

Hikari glares at Mimi, causing Miyako and I to laugh in hysterics.

We're shopping for Koushiro's birthday. He's the next up to bat to turn thirty, and he's going all out by hosting it at one of the most expensive bars in Ginza. I'm sure it wasn't Koushiro's idea though. He's not the flashy type. I'd say Taichi would have had a word with him, encouraging Kou to celebrate. It's not often you turn thirty; or so I've been told by everybody. Parties may not be my thing, but it's Koushiro's special day and it's been a while since our group of friends had gone out.

Besides, us girls haven't been shopping together for _ages._

Yes, you heard right – we're _actually_ all free! It's nice to have all schedules coincide together for once. Sure, we've had our fair share of stay-in movie nights, but actually going _out..._ well, the last time I recall that we ever did something like this was on my birthday.

"I think this looks better on you, Hikari," Miyako suggests, forcing a floral patterned dress into the mother's arms.

At least the dress; length isn't as long as the last one. The dress is brushing moderately over Hikari's knees, and is splashed in a floral peach, blush and fuchsia pattern that predominantly contrasts with the white material, making it not too overbearing. I kinda wanted to pick that particular dress up for myself, but oh well...it probably suits Hikari more anyway. I've never been into patterns. They clash against me, especially with my token red hair.

Talking about red, Mimi's eying a glamorous strapless, wine coloured mermaid dress with a sweetheart neckline cut. It's her style, and I know that her boobs will fill up the dress well. Mimi's always had the best curves out of all of us.

She catches my gaze and I give her the thumbs up.

"Try it on, Meems."

Mimi grins, snatching the dress from the rack and currying into the change rooms. Hikari is close behind her, while Miyako and I linger back on our own hunt to find dresses for ourselves.

I don't know why Miyako's taking long to find one. She's one of those people who will look good in anything from the rack, often purchasing clothing without even trying it on. She mightn't have the curves that Mimi possesses, but Miyako _does_ rock a model body being the tallest _and_ slimmest amongst us girls. Sometimes, I think, that if she hadn't become a nurse, she could have easily found herself a job in the modelling anywhere. I'm not joking; anything Miyako wears looks good!

"If you're having trouble, maybe go for something black?" I advise. Black is the safest go-to after all and if it does look plain, Miyako can always accessorise a black dress with jewellery.

Miyako nods, taking my suggestion as she begins to rummage through the copious amounts of black dresses. Since I'm not sure what I'm looking for, I help her out too. She settles for a ebony, off-the-shoulder dress. The length is short, falling over half her thighs, but short dresses have always been Miyako's thing, and it shows off her killer long legs. She picks a size that looks to big for her, so I hand her a smaller size. She takes both the dresses in case, draping them over her arm as she joins the other girls in the change rooms.

I'm on my own now, leaving the whole store for me to freely browse. Don't get me wrong, I do love shopping with my friends...but I also don't mind going shopping on my own too. That, and well, I'm picky. Even if the girls were to pick a dress for me, I would most likely argue against them until my face turns blue.

As the nights are getting colder, I opt to search for a comfortable midnight-blue jumpsuit. Over the top part of the dress, there is intricate lace over the jumpsuit, but the sleeves only consist of lace, therefore making my arms visible if I were to wear it. The pants of the jumpsuit is a straight-cut. It looks sophisticated, yet not too casual – something I definitely get away with at the extravagant party whilst being comfortable. (Comfort matters, OK?)

The change rooms are full when I get there. I try to locate my friends. The retail assistant is giving me an amused look as I bend over to find out which cubicles my friends have taken over. I can see two sets of legs under beneath the crack under one of the doors in one of the rooms, which evidently belong to Mimi and Hikari – especially when I hear Mimi's voice say to Hikari, 'Do my breasts look big?', with Hikari murmuring back, 'They always look big because they _are_ big."

I narrow my eyes to the next room, lowering down to the door gap to spot Miyako's worn-out leather handbag sitting on the ground. Knocking on the door, I demand, "Let me in, Miyako."

The four of us are not ashamed about sharing change rooms. From all the countless drunken nights we've had together, and then subsequently stripping each other from their clothing and into pyjamas; let's just say we're used to it.

" _Uh.._." I raise an eyebrow. For some reason she's hesitating. Miyako's always been the most comfortable about her body – especially since she's the nurse and deals with nudity on a frequent basis.

I start to complain just because I want to be annoying too, "Come on Miyako, all the other rooms are full-"

The door squeaks slightly open, and I take this a sign to squeeze into the tiny cubicle with the dress. I'm about to ask Miyako what took her so long, until I see her in the dress.

I gape.

Miyako looks beautiful. Gorgeous, actually. The off the shoulder dress compliments her quaint collarbone. Her figures fits perfectly in the dress, accenting her hips, bust and – well, the thing that I'm gaping at.

"Sora, I-"

My hands are already on her stomach. It's barely there, but she's protruding lightly and it's not the gaining weight kind of tummy either.

"You're _preg-"_

Miyako claps a hand over my mouth. I was wondering why she had been wearing baggy clothing for the past months. And the reason why she had picked a larger sized dress...and the fact she was taking _forever_ to make a selection. Oh – and how she's been avoiding alcohol!

My eyes are wide, pointing at her. Miyako shakes her head, pleading. And, because I'm stronger, and I can't contain myself, I fight out of her clutches and yell, "Girls! Get in here! Miyako's pregnant!"

"WHAT?" Mimi shrilly shrieks.

A moment later, they're pounding on our cubicle door. I let them in, shutting the door behind them and glimpsing the even more amused look spread on the sales person's face.

Hikari's beaming so hard that she begins to cry. She sniffs, "My kids will _finally_ have playmates."

"You bet me to it as well!" Mimi groans, but gives her a tight, suffocating hug. "I thought you've been acting weird lately. Now I know the reason!"

"Congrats, Miyako." I hug the two girls, and Hikari adds her embrace in.

It's like we're in the middle of a huddle before a football game, but our dirty uniforms are replaced with pricey cocktail dresses.

They're my girls. They make me whole. Even if everything falls apart around me I know that I have them; and they're more than enough.

* * *

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He's _so_ cute.

Hiroto is dressed in a mini tuxedo that suits his equally mini body. "Hi Aunty Sora!" he exclaims when he sees me. His little feet patter against the wooden flooring, appearing in front of me and bending his small back to bow at me.

I squat down to his level, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Hey Prince Charming."

Hiroto moves closer to me, pressing his soft lips against my cheek. _Goodness._ This boy is quite the charmer indeed. Did I mention how cute he is? I'm tempted to pinch his cheeks, but I refrain from doing it as I remember how my mother did the same thing to me as a kid...and look how I turned out!

I stand up on my two feet again, slightly wobbly from the heels. As I regain my balance, Takeru chuckles, "Stop womanising your aunt, Hiroto." He must have seen the whole spectacle. He puts his two hands on each of Hiroto's shoulders, kissing his head of ash-blond hair. "Good evening Sora. You look amazing."

"Talking about womanising," Hikari snorts, materialising besides Takeru and bumping his side with her hip.

"Where are the rest of your children?"

Takeru looks down at his son, frowning. He puts his hands over Hiroto's ears so that he can't hear Takeru speaking. "My mother's babysitting this time. Keita and Risa are already asleep, but we couldn't get rid of this one. He's too stubborn. He really wanted to come. I was hoping to be childless for the night."

"And Takeru's just sulky because he doesn't get to drink tonight because he's designated driver," Hikari grins.

Takeru scowls at his wife, "Evil woman."

Hiroto escapes from Takeru's grasp, sprinting to the other side of the venue room. Mimi's waving him over. She giggles as she picks him up and sits him on her lap.

"The betrayal," I cry out, dramatically.

"What _betrayal_?" Koushiro pips in. He's holding a pint of frothing beer, face already flushed from the amount of alcohol that everybody at the party keeps buying him. I step forward, fixing his collar because it's not sitting properly around his neck.

"Nothing, birthday boy. Maybe I'm just betrayed that you _still_ haven't introduced your girlfriend to us," I say out of spite.

Takeru adds, "I agree on that one."

"She's hot. I've met her," Taichi says. He leans down to kiss his sister on the cheek, before also planting a wet one on my cheek too. I scrunch my nose. " _Tai_! Stop being gross."

Koushiro tells me, "Oh Sora! I opened your present already. Thanks for the tie. Purple's my favourite colour."

"My pleasure," I smile, even going to the extent to do a curtsy for him. I had given the present to Koushiro when I had arrived, being one of the first guests to help him set everything up, alongside Taichi and Mimi.

Koushiro wasn't joking when he said he'd rent out the whole venue. It's a rooftop bar on top of a hotel in Ginza. There's even an infinity pool, with the water appearing dazzling as it reflects the abundant amount of city lights. My thirtieth suddenly feels foolish when compared to Koushiro's birthday. Then again, I don't think I could ever afford spending this much on my birthday _and_ I had only wanted to be with the girls that night.

"Yamato's here!" Koushiro looks from over my shoulder.

 _Shit..._

My throat dries up, fingers curling around my glass of pear cider. _Calm down._ I slowly inhale and exhale through my nose. I haven't seen him for what...almost seven months? I've been doing well avoiding many joint friend events, but from the sound of things – I hear that Yamato hadn't been attending any of them. He's been making himself scarce amongst our friends, only selectively choosing to hang out with boys.

I shouldn't be shocked by him being here. Koushiro's also his good friend. One of these days, I knew that I'd be bound to see him again. We have too many mutual friends. I couldn't ignore Yamato forever. I promised myself I wouldn't get hurt by him anymore, but seeing him in person...it aches. It _fucking_ hurts.

"Happy Birthday, Kou." Yamato says, voice husky.

Koushiro simpers. "Thanks for coming, Yamato."

I don't want to look at him, but there's something different about him. His eyes are the same cerulean blue, hair still dishevelled, but...I frown. He looks gaunt. Has he even slept? His dress top and bottoms are heavily creased and his shoes...is he seriously wearing sneakers at this formal event?

Yamato surveys the rest of us. He nods wordless hellos to everybody in our standing circle, but when he sees me he freezes. He doesn't acknowledge me and looks away. If Yamato wants to act that way, so be it. I'm trying to be civil, but he's being an ass. There's no point of this. Taichi notices the diss, but I shrug off, stalking away from the group to scoot on the booth where Mimi and Miyako are sitting.

Mimi's sipping on a margarita, and I can see Miyako glaring at her own glass of iced water, hoping that it would change into an alcoholic beverage as well. Hiroto's gone walkabout again because it seems like he's playing a game of stalking Koushiro now, tugging the celebrant by his tailcoat.

I force a smile. "What are you ladies talking about?"

"Names," Mimi replies, matter-of-factly. "I reckon it's a girl, so we should brainstorm girl names."

Miyako giggles. "Why are you certain?"

"Because you have a truckload of sisters. The chance is higher that you'll get a daughter."

"It's based on Jyou. The sperm's the deciding factor," Hikari tells us, sliding next to Miyako.

We all chortle in laughter, but to be honest...I'm not feeling it. I want to be elated for Miyako, I really do. Yet, how can I when Yamato's wandered in? All I want to do is pick up my purse and leave.

Mimi flips her wavy hair over her shoulder, giggling, "Maybe, Miyako, I'll pray for you that the sperm results in a girl?"

"I don't want a girl!" Miyako snaps. "I want a boy."

Even with make-up and her floral dress, there's no hiding the exhaustion in her face. Then again, on top of having three children she _does_ look after other people's children too. Hkari responds, "Boys are overrated."

"Tell me about it." I rest my head in my hands, breathing out.

Hikari looks at me. I had forgotten she was there when Yamato had snubbed me off.

This makes me sit up and hastily drain the rest of my cider. I'm in a hurry because I'm a sitting duck once Hikari starts questioning me. The girls' will be in unnecessary interrogation fest and, frankly, I'm really not in the mood for it.

I ask, "Anybody else want another drink?"

"I'm good." Mimi raises her margarita that's half empty. Miyako shakes her head and Hikari motions at her full glass of bubbling champagne.

At the bar, I order _umeshu_ on the rocks. I shouldn't be mixing drinks, but I don't want another cider. As the bartender's about to charge me for the drink, my spontaneity gets the best of me.

"Can you I have a shot of vodka too, please?"

"One shot?" The bartender surveys me, curiously.

I confirm that it's for myself. "One shot."

Screw it. It's Koushiro's birthday, Miyako's pregnant _and_ Yamato's here. It's a triple celebration and knowing that Yamato is currently in the same area as I am, _boy_ , do I need a drink. I pay for it and glance at the clear shot in the minuscule glass. It looks harmless, almost looking like water. However, the saying to not judge a book by its cover can be applied to vodka. Looks can be deceiving, especially whenever it comes to alcohol.

The vodka shot burns down my throat, leaving a trail of dread to the pit of my stomach. The thing about shots is that you don't think (well, more in my case) much of it when you take it...it's more the after taste and the feeling you get from it that makes you think of immediate regret.

I take a sip of the plum wine, washing away the remnants of the vodka.

"Tough day?"

The voice is coming from my right, so I angle my head to the direction and inwardly groan when I notice that it's Taichi. He gives me a knowing look. Although as dimwitted and unobservant Taichi is at times, there are some rare moments when he _does_ tend to pick something out of the norm, and right now he's looking at the empty shot glass then at me.

He hails the bartender back to our side of the bar, ordering a jug of beer. He's waiting for my reply. I could leave him, but I stay glued on the stop next to him. In all honesty, I'd rather be standing here with Taichi than being fussed over by the girls. At least it's only one person; and it _is_ Taichi. I can handle Taichi well on his own.

However, it's what he says next that surprises me.

"I don't know what happened with you and Yamato, but if it helps," Taichi reveals, "I'm not talking to him either."

This is new information to me. I hadn't heard from anybody that Taichi and Yamato had been arguing. Or perhaps it was in my friends' interests not to utter his name in front of me. I don't like that they're not talking to each other. Taichi and Yamato have a long history together and for them to be on non-speaking terms doesn't sound right.

I find my voice. "How long for?"

"A few months," Taichi responds. "I actually didn't expect him to make it tonight."

"Why?"

Taichi is reluctant at first, but then discloses quietly, "He's been unstable lately. I've never seen him act so despondent...I don't know if you know, but he gets these depressive phases and whenever Yamato goes through them, he's hard to hang out with..."

"Then shouldn't you be there for him?" I query. I may still be frustrated with Yamato, but I didn't like to think of him being alone. Nobody should deserve that.

"Trust me, I try. I've got my own threshold that I can only take too, Sora," Taichi remarks. "But I don't know, this time he's become more difficult. I think it's his band members and some people he hangs out with in that industry. The celebrity life is so toxic. Sometimes, I think, it brings the worst out of him."

"Why are you telling me this?" I close my eyes.

"I thought you'd want to know."

I open my eyes, glaring at Taichi. "I don't."

"If we're both angry at him, I want you to at least see the whole picture. Sora, you kinda brought him back for a bit." Taichi is distractedly looking down at the bubbling jug of beer. "He used to be as loud, as rowdy as I...then his father died. And he went quiet. Yamato does have his depressive phases, he's had them ever since high school-but it really hit him hard when his father died and the band separated."

I don't want to know this now. Yamato could have told me this himself. _Why_ hadn't he told me? The more I know about him, I find myself realising that this particular musician has been harbouring many secrets. And, what makes it disturbing, is that he reveals _what_ he wants to reveal to everybody. If he wasn't a musician, perhaps he could pursue a career in acting – the darn asshole.

"Sometimes he says things he doesn't mean," Taichi continues. "He does things he doesn't mean."

 _Does things? Right..._

"You know what, Taichi?" I speak up. My tone pitches louder with each word I speak, anger seeping through me. I thought I'd passed through this infuriated, petty feeling – but seeing Yamato has triggered me again. Yamato is making me blood boil. My emotions are tossing between rage and heartache. "I don't care. Just because he's feeling shit doesn't mean he needs to take it out on others. We all go through our own struggles and battle hand-in-hand with our own demons, but that doesn't give him an excuse to do whatever the _fuck_ he pleases."

Taichi is taken back from my outburst. His eyes, startled. "Sora, I-"

"I need some fresh air, Tai."

"Alone?"

"Yes," I hiss.

I stride past him, feeling slightly pained when I glimpse the guilty look on Taichi's facial expression. It's not his fault. I'll tell him that later. I just want to get out of here. I'm craving to be outside so that I can take a breath of fresh air. Being in this function room is preventing me from doing that. I feel claustrophobic, I need to escape. I need to-

"GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER!"

The yell frightens me, making me lose track of my train of thoughts. I linger barely besides the balcony glass doors. Just as I had finally managed to almost make my way outside, in plans to hover around the pool area, I can't because somebody else is occupying the section...and whoever it is does _not_ sound happy.

"Why are you even here?" The voice persisted, a voice I immediately recognise to be Takeru's. I frown. Takeru, maddened? That's not right. It can't be.

"You wanted me here." It's Yamato's hoarse voice.

 _Great._ I've stumbled across a sibling argument. I want to leave, but I can't bring myself to. It's not like Takeru to blow a fuse. In fact, I don't think I've _ever_ witness Takeru lose his cool.

"Sure, make appearances for Koushiro but _not_ like this. Not when you're pissed off your face, and not when your nephew is here too! Goddamnit, Yamato. You're becoming like dad-"

"Don't talk about dad when you don't know anything about him! Mother's the one that made him lose it!" Takeru's right. Yamato is drunk. Even his way of speaking sounds slurred, and abrupt, not conversing in his usual calm and collected form of speech.

Takeru retorts, tone livid, "Don't blame mother for anything. Our parents grew apart, you know that. They were happier when they divorced. Why do you have to talk about this _now_? You had years to bring this up, and _now_ you speak of this?"

"Maybe I want to talk about it now," Yamato attempts to egg him on, laughing cruelly.

He wants to start a fight, and I'm worried Takeru will take the bait. But Takeru immediately figures it out. Takeru lets out a loud, sigh.

"Darn it, Yamato. Just sober up, will you?"

Yamato's brother charges past me, not even realising that I've been listening in the whole time. Nevertheless, despite being clearly drunk, Yamato seems to have noticed my presence. He drawls, "I know you're there."

My body stiffens. I want to retreat, but my feet won't listen to me. But then again, why do I have to leave? This party, this venue is for everybody. If I wanted some fresh air, Yamato can't hog it all and – _God, I'm such a coward_. He doesn't have the right to make me feel like this, but I feel like I'm going to fall apart. After all those of months of pulling myself back together, being in his mere presence has shaken me.

Yamato dares to address me, " _Miss Takenouchi?"_

But, like I said earlier, Yamato is somebody I'll have to always come across. I can't hide forever. Although he had failed to acknowledge me, he seems to want to speak to me now. We don't have to be anything. We can be acquaintances, or in the long run, even friends. We're adults; the least we could be is civil.

I take a step outside. The breeze prickles my skin, making me shiver. It's not from the coldness though. It's from the way his eyes are piercing through me, in that strong unwavering gaze he's always possessed.

"Yamato? It's been a while."

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 **(a/n)** This was kinda hard to write? I'm not sure how I feel about this one. I'm just glad I've posted this up prior to the latest Tri movie being released. Nevertheless, Yamato's made an appearance once again. Miyako's pregnant. And we finally get some Sora/Yamato interaction coming up in the next chapter. There are bound to be typos (as per usual), but I'll fix them up another time.

Thanks for reading! xox

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 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

Marissaaaa: i feel awkward that you read my old story ' _Limitz_ ' because it makes me cringe so much. haha. thanks for dropping by to review, and it's glad to know that an old reader is also reading my old/new stories as well. :)

LILFOC: Jyou is definitely amazing ;)

Ana Mara: I still like Sebastian as a name! I've been actually wanting an excuse to use that name for one of my stories one day, and the name found its appearance in this story xD I'm glad you're enjoying Lifelines too. Yamato is definitely more fleshed out in that story (considering it's from his POV) in contrast to in Bittersweet

Dikus: Sora's quite fragile. On the outside, to other people, she appears more stronger. But yes..this is her POV, so there are a lot of her flaws that are made apparent. Jun x Sora interaction is quite fun to write :D Don't worry, Yamato will come back. Thanks for understanding. I've had a lot of things going on too xD Haha. Thanks for reading!

( _will reply to the logged-in reviews later on today/this week_ )


	26. chapter twenty-six: trainwreck

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter twenty-six

 **t** rainwreck

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"Yamato, it's been a while."

 _Good job, Sora_. I tell myself.

All I had to do was turn around, pretend I hadn't heard anything and walked off. But _no._ It's like I like to make things difficult for myself. As soon as I knew that he was here, I _couldn't_ bring myself to walk away. Believe me, I've done well not seeing him, though because I know he's here I can't leave. I just can't…I need answers.

I pretended it didn't bother me. I had erased him from thoughts, knowing there was no point to get worked up over him after all that's happened. Or, I had thought I had forgotten him. Seems like he still plagues me even to this day - and it's been _months,_ maybe even half a year now that I think about it _._

However, seeing him here makes me feel unsettled. Naturally, it would...but I just don't get why he had to fuck up things between us. I want to know. I know I can just jump to a conclusion and say he's an asshole, yet I know there's much more to him. There's something I'm missing. Now I sound like I'm making excuses for him. I'm not. I need closure, and to obtain this closure I need clarity. Even if it means I have to confront him.

His piercing eyes are giving me a one-over as I reluctantly amble closer to him on the balcony. He chooses to look away, staring at the glossing pool from the dim lighting. He takes a while to address me, like he's debating whether he should ignore me or to partake in conversation.

"Sora."

At least I know he isn't going to completely avoid my existence, but it'll do. He's leaning against a steel table, shoulders sloped in a wearisome manner. I opt to take a seat on same table, facing the side of his body because he's still staring at the pool.

I lean back, folding my legs together. It's more quieter here. I can hear the noisy humming of the guests from inside, and asides from the company, it feels better being out. Although I don't like too much noise, I don't like that Yamato hasn't spoken to me yet.

"Takeru's pissed off with you," I start. "What did you do?"

His jaw tightens. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough to figure out the full picture."

Yamato curses at that, but I shrug. I'm not going to lie when their brotherly dispute was fairly audible. Anybody would have been able to hear them arguing if they had walked by since Takeru and Yamato weren't being the least bit discreet.

He mutters, "You could have walked away."

"Like you did?"

His shoulders tense up. He knows I'm not talking about stumbling across Takeru and his bicker anymore. I can't take back my worths either. It had come out before I had processed the words in my mind, and I'm not going to insist that I had said it by accident. I had meant to say it to a certain degree. Of course I had.

Seeing that he's got nothing to say, I keep going. My tone is bitter when I speak, "It's fine. I know you were just using me too."

At this, Yamato turns. His eyes narrowed, igniting with fury and madness. "I wasn't."

"Right," I snort. If he wants to play this game, fine. I'm trying to be civil, to be calm. But being in the same place as Yamato has sparked my anger again - especially when he's the one who's about to lose his temper at me. Shouldn't it be me who has the right to be infuriated? The balls he has. I want to rip him apart. "You were. That's all you wanted from me. You get bored, you sleep around. I was just another person on your list because you don't know what the hell you want. If you had the gall, all you had to do was speak to me. But you didn't...did you?"

"You don't know anything about me."

"Think about it, Yamato. Did you even bother to allow me to?" I reply. I stammer. My voice is shaky. I swivel off the stool, propping my chin up and glaring straight at his face. "You may have divulged some things about yourself to me, but you-you _know_ that you weren't telling me everything. You'd still hide things from me that I never knew about; that I still _don't_ know about. How could we be together if you never could trust me-"

"And you're one to talk. Care to explain that other man? He doesn't look like just an _ordinary_ ex."

"I already told you that he means nothing to me now!" I exclaim. "Why do I have to explain this to you? Even after all this time, you're holding onto a grudge. I thought you'd might change in this period...but look at you! _You're a wreck_!"

Perhaps I'm being brutal, but he's triggering me to act the way I am. I'm infuriated by him, what he's doing to himself and others. Jun's worried about him. Taichi's not speaking to him and Takeru's exasperated with him.

This isn't Yamato; and I want the Yamato I know to come back to his senses. I want the Yamato I know to get back on track and to pick himself up! I can't even be completely mad at him because he's not being the person I knew. His eyes are staring at his feet now, unsure what to do or say. Since I'm closer, his skin looks dry, bags more visible under his eyes and there's uneven stubble. He's not grooming himself properly, and seeing him up close like this makes me more upset.

"Shut up," he snarls at me. His tone shocks me a bit. He's never really spoken to me in this way. "Like I said, you don't know anything about me Sora. You're perfect. You've got parents who are both alive and who love you. You have the perfect family. You're independent, successful on your own. You don't have people at your back, attacking you or wanting you dead, or stalking you to your home. Compared to me, you've got it easy. You're a princess. You've got everything you want, so stop being a bitch."

"Fuck you," I growl.

"Haven't you already?"

I slap him. His jaw clenches, eyes shut tight. Even he's as shocked as I am by what I've done. I can feel my hand tingling from the impact of it against his cheek. Again, I've done something without thinking, but when he started talking about how my life was perfect - how I had it good compared to him, it truly had vexed me.

Doesn't he see how good he has it too? He's got a great brother, mother, friends, band...and he's a talented musician who _also_ is darn successful too! He's got more money that I could ever dream of, and even if he looks like trainwreck right now - he's still _fucking_ attractive. He could have had a ton of models clinging onto his arms, yet he had chosen to sleep with and fuck things over. He had said he wanted to be with me, and I had begun to construct the false dream of being his partner.

"Maybe I deserved that." His hand clutches onto his left cheek, still stunned.

"You did," I state, trembling. Tears are forming around the corner of my eyes. I use the back of my hand to abruptly wipe them away. He notices the swift movement.

His voice breaks, " _Sora…"_

The idiot still cares. Regret, sorrow and anguish is swirling in those irritating blue eyes of his. Had those emotions been there when I had looked into his eyes last? Had he been disguising them? Behind his insensitive words, his cold tone and his desperate need to avoid me...he's _still_ hiding from me what he's feeling? After all this? If he cares _why_ did he run away?

"I'm sorry."

It's delayed, but there it is. My gaze drifts away from him, staring at the tiled ground. I can't look at him anymore. I don't know what to do. Why is Yamato making everything so difficult for me? I want to be angry at him. I want to hate him. But I still care about him too. I hate this. I really do.

"Why are you sorry, Uncle Yamato?" Hiroto appears behind me, tugging onto the pants of the jumpsuit that I'm wearing and angling his tiny head upwards at his uncle.

"About many things." Yamato chuckles. He bends his knees to Hiroto's level, planting a kiss on his forehead. It's the first time I've seen his eyes brighten up in amusement tonight. "If your Aunt Sora forgives me, maybe I'll feel better."

"Don't pull that card out, Ishida." I cross my arms together, unimpressed by his tactic. This is not what I had planned. He's using his nephew as leeway; and I refuse to let him get out of this spectacle _that_ easily - not after all we've been through.

"What choice do I have? Everybody hates me right now," Yamato says back.

Hiroto tilts his head. "But I love you Uncle Yamato."

"I know you do. And you're all I need, Hiroto-kun."

"Have you ever considered to stop thinking that everybody hates you and then, perhaps, you'll stop being an assho-I-I _mean_ ," I catch myself from bad-mouthing Yamato in front of Hiroto, "-a bad person."

"A bad person?" Yamato repeats, raising an eyebrow. He's challenging me and really juicing Hiroto to his advantage.

"HIROTO-KUN! WHERE ARE YOU? " Although I can't see her, it's Hikari who is shouting for her son. She's screaming so hard that her voice is coming up on top of the music, floating to where we are standing on the balcony. "WE'RE GOING TO BLOW THE CAKE!"

"CAKE!" Hiroto yells. He spins away from Yamato's grasp. His movements are so sudden that as he's about to rush back inside, his feet skids against the tiles.

Yamato doesn't beat me to break his fall. Maybe I have faster reflexes because I jolt behind Hiroto, using my body to rebound him off me.

 _Splash!_

I shriek when I slip backwards, body forcefully being submerged into the ice-chilling water. From Hiroto's tiny body crashing onto me, the impact had made me fall into the pool. The smell of pungent chlorine makes me want to throw up. My formal clothes are heavy, and sticking uncomfortably against my body. The friction between the water and my jumpsuit pants are irritating, and the feel of it is more apparent as I use my legs to kick, keeping my body buoyant. I gasp for air, lifting my head above the rippling surface.

My Prince Charming has run away, betraying me for cake this time. At least I know Hiroto is safe.

Yet, out of all people, it had to be Yamato that had literally witnessed my fall - and he's _actually_ laughing at me. I puff my cheeks at the observer. "Aren't you at least going to help me up?"

"You're swimming. You can handle yourself, Sora. We both know you're more athletic than I am."

How could I have forgotten that Yamato isn't always a gentleman? I suddenly remember of that time he had been my partner at Koushiro's launch. He hadn't even bothered to rescue me from that doctor who was trying to score with me because he said that I could 'handle' it myself.

Anyway, it's probably better that I don't rely on him. I don't need him. He isn't wrong because I know to pick myself up.

He adds, "Besides, I can't swim."

I roll my eyes at his excuse, paddling over to the side of the pool to find the steel staircase. Propelling myself upwards, I begin the process of dragging my body out of the pool. It's an effort because the gravity from my clothing is making it harder to get out. Torrents of water seeps down my body as I get out. The jumpsuit is sticking to me, and the breeze does a great job at making my teeth chatter and causing my body to shudder uncontrollably from the temperature drop.

As if remembering etiquette, Yamato takes off his dress jacket and places it around my shoulders. I stare at him, suspecting and exhausted as I wrap it around my body. His warmth feels nice, but I don't tell him that.

I march past him, making it my primary task to find Mimi. From what I recall from over the phone call last night, Mimi had mentioned to me that she had booked Taichi and herself a room at the venue's hotel this evening. Both Taichi and her had had work today, so they had changed and gotten ready in their booked room before heading up to the rooftop bar for Koushiro's party.

Mimi's at the booth with Miyako. They're both sharing some chocolate cake. With the whole fiasco if me landing into the pool, I had missed the singing of 'Happy Birthday' and the dispersion of cake. However, from the look on Mimi's scrunched up face, I know the cake isn't all that good. Mimi's really picky with her food because she's a great patissier and, arguably, the best chef present at this party - so she has a reason to criticise food when it doesn't match her standards.

She sends suspicious glances between Yamato and I through her long lashes (I don't even know why Yamato's following me at this point, but I ignore him). It takes Mimi a while to note that I'm not wearing Yamato's jacket 'just because', but within reason since my whole attire is damp. She states the obvious, "Sora! You're wet!"

I deadpan, "I went swimming."

"She fell in," Yamato corrects.

Miyako accuses him, "Was it you who pushed her into the pool?"

"No. I accidentally fell in." As much as I want to point fingers and blame Yamato, it was I who had been clumsy. "Say, Mimi...can I borrow your hotel key? I need to get changed. You wouldn't have a spare change of clothes as well?"

Mimi doesn't question me, immediately fishing through her purse. She hands me the keycard and instructs, "Room 1807. I've only got one set of clean clothes to wear tomorrow, but I need them for a meeting." She then suggests, "You can wear my work clothes?"

"Sounds good," I reply. Mimi's work clothing is better than nothing - anything to get out of these sticky clothing and into something dry. "I'll be back."

I stalk out of the bar, hurrying towards the lifts. My feet are cold as my toes touch the tiled surface. Had I forgotten about my heels? Yes. They must have fallen off when I had stumbled into the pool…

The elevator arrives and I swipe the keycard to level eighteen. Once reaching the level, I let out a sigh of relief when I feel that the ground is replaced with carpet as I walk down the corridor. Number 07 appears and the keycard permits me entry. The door is about to close, but a hand holds it agape.

I blink. Yamato's trailed after me? I hadn't expected him to keep following me. I had made it clear, perhaps not verbally, that I hadn't wanted anybody to go with me to the hotel room. I was going to dry up, quickly get changed and go back to the party. Then why is Yamato here? Why hadn't I heard, or paid attention to his presence? I thought he had stayed behind because it had been quiet in the elevator. It's funny because Yamato can be silent during one period, or a chattering mess whenever he wants to be. Just how many sides does Yamato have? How many sides has he been disguising from me?

"Why are you here?"

Yamato looks vacantly at me. At least he's not leering, but it's still tripping me out. He replies, "My jacket."

"Oh," I say, not knowing how else to respond. His reasoning still does not make sense, but I leave it. At least he's not saying he wants to sleep with me...unless that's the reason why he's decided to go to the hotel room? No way. That's not happening. He, no...is that what he's thinking?

I glance at him. He's not staring at me, but more intently at his jacket that I'm wearing. I clear my throat, "Sure. I'll quickly get changed and give your jacket back then."

"Please…"

 _Right._ Is it me, or is he acting odder?

Shrugging, I go inside the bathroom. I lock the door as I'm feeling weary. What has gotten into him? One moment we're in a heated argument, the next he's spacing out on me. Jun had gone out of her way to find me recently. She had been worried. Is it because of how he is now? He _is_ a trainwreck...but _why_ is he one?

I don't feel comfortable getting out of the bathroom anytime soon. Peeling off my clothing and underwear, I hang them onto the rails to dry. I could dress straight away into Mimi's work clothes after I dry myself, but I refrain from doing so. If anything, I want to stretch as much time as I can from facing Yamato again - even if means that I'll have to shower in the process. Hopefully, by then, Yamato would have left the hotel room.

The steam fogs up the vanity mirror by the time I step out of the shower. Drying my body with a fluffy towel, I wriggle into Mimi's work clothing. It smells of pastries and honey. At least Mimi's work doesn't entail any disgusting odours. I place the towel on another rail to dry. As I'm about to use the blow-dryer, there's a hard knock on the door.

"Hurry up!" Yamato scolds, tone urgent.

I frown. "Do you need to use the toilet?"

"No! I need my jacket."

"Why?" I mumble, untangling the tangles in my hair with Mimi's magenta comb. I catch my reflection in the mirror, eyebrows raised, confused by Yamato's insistence for his jacket. The temperature isn't as cold because we're indoors and in a heated room now.

"I need it now, Sora!" He demands, "Give it to me! It's itching."

I ask, concerned, "What's itching? Yamato, what's wrong?"

"They're going to eat me!" He's desperate now, fists banging against the door.

What the hell is he talking about? Sure, I had scented some alcohol on him, but there's something else that's messing with him. He's frantic. He's done a one-eighty. He's...

The jacket is on the ground.

I squat down to pick it up, and as I do a few small transparent plastic packets fall out. There's an evenly distributed amount of white powder inside these packets. I drop the jacket, picking one of the plastic sleeves. My hands are shaky, observing the way the light reflects against the powdered crystals in the lighting. I then gaze at the door, mouth slightly agape, bewildered as I try to process it all. _No. This...this can't be? Yamato wouldn't - would he?_

Numbly, I crawl to the toilet. I toss all the plastic sachets into it. I flush it in time before the door is kicked open.

His eyes are bloodshot, face distorted in panic as he watches the plastic packets disappear from sight. He coldly leers at me. He spits, "What the _fuck_ did you do?"

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?" I snap back, feeling absolutely livid and sick in the stomach. "What the _hell,_ Yamato! If this is the reason, _Christ_...no wonder you fucked up!"

He runs his fingers through his hair, kneeling over the toilet bowl. His hands are about to go inside it, but I smack his arms away from the toilet. "I need them! Or else they'll eat me. These things, on my skin…"

"What things?" I whisper. My voice is stuck in my throat as I now see his arms in perfect lighting.

The bathroom is clinically lit up much more than upstairs in the rooftop bar. Then again, I hadn't been paying attention to Yamato once he had taken his jacket and lent it to me. There are scabs all over his arms. Some appear raw and fresh, other wounds look old. He's been scratching his arms out of habit, or has he been hallucinating? Does he really think something is eating him? God knows what other scratches and wounds are like on the rest of his chalky, white skin. From looking down at him from this angle, I can see how much weight he's lost.

He kneels onto the ground and starts sobbing. His body is quivering, back quaking as he begins to cry. I don't know what's gotten into him. I'm torn between pity, sadness and anger. Why did he do this to himself? How long has he been doing this? Why... _why_ do this when he has so many people who cares about him? Just... _why?_

"Yamato," I whisper, collapsing down next to him.

"I-I'm sorry," He croaks out. I've never seen him this fragile before. It scares me. Everything is scaring me right now. He stutters, "It's my...my fault you left. My fault he's there."

"It's fine," I comfort him.

It's not. How can I be pissed off at him when he's so broken? So...my eyes are watering up again. I can't stand this. I hate seeing him in so much pain and I don't like that whatever I say or do might not make a difference in making him feel better.

He continues, "It's my fault she died."

I think I know who he is referring to, but right now is not the time to play a guessing game. Yamato's hurting, and the only thing I can do for him now is to look after him until the shaking subsides.

Yamato collapses into my arms when I press my body against his, enveloping him in an embrace. I had always dreamed or imagined of him being in my arm again, if we ever had reconciled. However, I never had pictured our reunion to be like this.

He weeps into my shoulder. I don't stop the tears from streaming down my eyes either as I continue to hold onto him, patting him on the back until the sobbing ceases.

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 **(a/n)** & this was even more difficult to write. Sorry about the delay. I know this is a turning point (for the worst?) to this story, which was most likely why I delayed writing this because I knew it would get my mood down and because it is a touchy subject for me. If you had read the recent chp to Lifelines, you would have noted more hints about Kaori. It'll be explained soon, perhaps. Anyway, this probably wasn't the happy reunion you would have wanted for Sora x Yamato. There's still so much story to tell, I guess. To think that Bittersweet Catastrophe started on whim and was meant to be 'light-hearted'. My apologies -_-"

Anywho, hope you're all well and I hope you've all come to terms with the Tri ending :P (will edit this another time)

 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

Guest: Perhaps I might not love this story as much as my readers do xD Maybe because I know there are many flaws, plot holes I want/need to fix. Maybe because sometimes it actually might hurt writing particular scenes. Maybe because I wish I had more time on my hands to actually write -_-" Haha. Thanks for reviewing! xox

Dikus: Yeah, I got what you meant! :) The OVA was pretty Sorato implied. It would have been nice if it wasn't 'implied' and just..er..done? :P Thanks for reading!

Ana Mara: Ah, the last OVA feels like ages ago...in coloration to the last time I updated this fanfic, I see. xD But yes, the last Sorato interaction in the last movie was cute. The lemon might take a while. They're both hurting quite a lot. Thank you for reading :)

 _(as per usual, will reply to the other reviews tomorrow or later on this week. thanks guys!)_

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	27. chapter twenty-seven: aftershocks

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter twenty-seven

 **a** ftershocks

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I can't leave; not when he's like this.

He's unpredictable and so darn temperamental. I can deal with him when he's angry. I can deal when he's being a jerk. I can deal when he's being a romantic, but I _can't_ deal with him now – not when he's _this_ broken. I can't release him from my grasp, not when he's shaking in my arms like this. Why? My voice is still lost in my throat, trying to process this new information together.

Questions are tumbling in my mind. What's Yamato taking? How long had been on drugs? Why is he taking them? Had he been on them before? He hadn't seemed under the influence of anything when we were together. Was he clean when he was with me? What's _wrong_ with him? Whatever made him to resort to taking them?

 _It's my...my fault you left. My fault he's there. It's my fault she died._

Those three sentences were laced with guilt. He blamed himself all for it. While I knew the answer to the first sentence, I didn't know what else was polluting his mind. There were many things about Yamato that I still didn't know of. How much of the real him had I seen? And exactly _who_ was it that he claimed to have killed? I don't believe Yamato would kill somebody. How could he? He isn't like this.

...then _what_ is he like?

Again, another unanswered thought. However, it does not stop me from leaving his side. We're still sprawled on the cool, tiled floor when Taichi and Takeru find us.

"Sora, step away from him." Taichi's face is contorting in rage when he directs his attention to his best friend. "Get away from her. I warned you already to stay away from her."

" _Taichi_?" I say, gazing up at him. What's scarier than seeing Yamato like this? Seeing Taichi angry.

If Yamato is ice when he's mad; Taichi is fire. His eyes are wild and incensed, body stiff and rigid. His anger seems to have escalated when he notes my arms around Yamato, unmoving. I don't know what has gone on between Taichi and Yamato, but it must have been quite severe to trigger Taichi like this. Yamato looks away from him, the shaking in his body more frantic.

I repeat, "Taichi."

Taichi's eyes continue to leer at Yamato, ignoring that I'm calling out to him. He growls, "Yamato, get away!"

"Calm down." I try to intervene, an attempt to stop everything from exploding before us. This is getting out of control, and I don't know if Yamato can tolerate this at the moment. He hasn't uttered a single word to Taichi since he had seen us.

"Don't _fucking_ tell me to calm down, Sora! Not after all that's happened! He went too far. I _know_ alright?!" Taichi shouts at me. "He told me what he fucking did to you-"

I catch my breath. Although Yamato's not completely sober, I gaze at him and know enough from his pained eyes that what Taichi's telling is true. I had caused the rift between the two of them and, it appears, that Taichi had taken my side.

"What did you do?" Takeru's eyes flicker down to Yamato and I.

The tone in his voice makes me wary. He's the one who is usually mocking a situation, finding almost everything comedic. I had witnessed him lose his cool on his older brother by the pool, yet now there's this raw, confused edge to his voice. Takeru might not know what exactly is going on, but he's wise enough to connect the dots from how severe the situation is from the burning friction between Taichi and Yamato

"He forced her to have sex with him."

Takeru looks lethal. If I thought Taichi looked scary, Takeru's more threatening with his controlled, and disappointed furiousness. "Yamato, is it true?"

He's still not replying.

"Fucking _say_ something!" Takeru barks.

When I don't think it can get any worse, another voice joins in after Takeru's screaming. The tone is, softer and more tame. "Why didn't you tell me, Sora?"

I can't find any words as I respond dumbly, "I-uh.."

Mimi. I hadn't noticed her walk in. She picked the right time to collide into the drama of what is happening around us. My eyes blur up, blinking away the tears. I hadn't wanted anybody to know about it. I hadn't expected Yamato to tell Taichi. He must have felt shit about it, he must have wanted to tell somebody – and this was how the two best friends had stopped talking to each other. It was because of me.

"Sora?"

"Can we not talk about this?" I whisper.

I don't like being exposed like this. Not now; not in front of everybody. However, from Mimi's piercing gaze, I know she won't forget, silently promising me that she'll get me to tell her one way or another. Why did Taichi have to open his big mouth about us? This didn't involve him. I shake my head, not wanting to think about that night.

"Then get away from him _now_ , Sora." Taichi's glaring, speaking of Yamato like he's a contagious disease. He doesn't realise that his morose mood isn't helping either. "He'll hurt you."

"I'll decide on that myself, but right now that can wait," I reply, quietly.

The damage had already been done. Yamato _had_ hurt me. We all knew that. But right now, it isn't about me. Trust me, I'm still furious about what Yamato had done – but not as strongly as I had been for – not when he's hardly sober. I had seen guilt and regret in Yamato's eyes, and I know that's the first step of forgiveness on my half, however it's still a long journey for me to turn a blind eye to what happened. There are so many problems swarming around in Yamato's that we weren't aware of, problems that need to be addressed. What he desperately needs help is our help; or some _type_ of help. That's the priority; and we can't ambush him when his mind is no longer thinking straight. Yamato is there, but not completely.

Taichi frowns. "Why are you defending him, Sora?"

"Damn it, Taichi! It's not about taking sides right now, alright? Stop reprimanding him and _look_ at him!"

I suddenly feel tugging. Takeru's separating me from grasping onto Yamato.

"What's with your arms, onii-chan?" Takeru's voice slices between us. Although he's asked the question, I'm watchful of Takeru's reaction, his eyes turning colder by the second as he closely examines the scabs that are scared all over Yamato's body. It doesn't take Takeru long to realise what's really going on. After a series of curses, Takeru splutters, " _Again_ Yamato?"

"Again what?" Taichi huffs. "What-"

"They won't leave me alone," Yamato's voice croaks. It's the first time he's spoken since his brother and Taichi have wandered into the bathroom. His eyes are vague as he waves his hand over his face, trying to rid of something that isn't there. "These bugs, they keep following me-"

Mimi responds, startled, "There are no bugs here, Yamato."

"He's hallucinating," I comment, as Takeru places a hand on each of Yamato's shoulders and begins to rattle him.

"What?" Taichi says.

Takeru hisses, "Get a hold of yourself, damn it!" Yamato lolls his head onto the side, staring vacantly up at Takeru. "Since when...did you get here? Takeru? Is that you?"

Taichi doesn't know what to say anymore. The rage, or whatever that had been sizzling down in him disappears as he observes Yamato with utter bemusement. Seeing Yamato in this state is clearly not something common, nevertheless it's Takeru that leaps immediately into action.

"Makoto sensei?" Takeru is calling somebody. At the mention of the stranger's name, Yamato's eyes enlarge. Yamato reaches out to snatch the phone from Takeru, evidently wanting to end the phone call between Takeru and the person on the other line. Taichi prevents this, lightly kicking Yamato's arm aside as Taichi uses his body to stand between Yamato and Takeru.

"I see," Takeru speaks to Makoto. He glances at us. "I'll call Satou-san then. Yes, it's the best way. We're at a hotel in Ginza-"

"NO!"

As Takeru's about to leave out of the bathroom, Yamato is suddenly on his feet, about to lunge at him. Taichi almost missed catching Yamato's arm, yanking him back from going after his brother.

Takeru instructs me to lock the bathroom door. Mimi abides to Takeru's wishes, and she clicks the lock and steps in front of the door to guide it, Yamato goes ballistic. He fights, struggles against Taichi's clutches, trying his hardest to shake him off. "Let me go!"

"No," Taichi replies. At this reply, Yamato _almost_ escapes from Taichi. I stand up, stepping in to give Taichi a hand. Yamato's still in a feral, panicked mode. Taichi pushes him against the wall. "Stop it."

"Fuck you!" Yamato roars back, resisting more. It's getting harder to put up with his sporadic, disorderly movements.

"Hey? Yamato?" I say as serenely as I can, hoping that I can placate him. After all the screaming and bickering, I'm surprised that I can even produce a placid voice. Mimi and Taichi watch me curiously as I take a different approach. I reach out a hand, holding it against his cheek. I can feel his dried tears as I caress him. "Hey. Yamato? Look...look at me."

His blue, pained eyes stare back. I keep hold of his face in my hands.

"Breathe in and out," I speak. "That's right. In and out...it's fine. You'll be fine."

His muscles loosen, no longer having the energy to put a fight. Taichi's no longer holding him back as he leans onto the wall, sliding back down onto his feet. His arms go around his knees as he rocks back and forth. "I'm..I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Taichi bites his bottom lip, staring away. I catch the redness in his eyes. Mimi is sobbing. And me? I drop back on my knees and hug him. The shaking slowly ceases, but it doesn't stop him from continuously apologising. He doesn't stop uttering sorry to me until Satou-san comes.

Satou casts a glance over us. Whoever this Satou person is, he seems to know everybody in the bathroom excluding myself. His tired facial expression reads concern, outrage and disappointment. In a sombre manner, he imparts, "That's it, Yamato. We're taking you to rehab."

Yamato clings onto me, not wanting to leave. It takes all three men to pull him away.

I'm still shuddering, gazing at the empty spot where Yamato had been, when Mimi places an arm around my waist and pulls me in to her. She places her hand on my head, resting it onto her shoulder.

"It'll be alright, Sora."

It won't be. I see through Mimi's lies and I feel that her breathing is unsteady. Even Mimi is just shocked as I am at this whole ordeal. She hadn't known either. Taichi had been thrown off by the fact that Yamato was on something, but Takeru - Takeru had immediately connected the pieces and he acted on his presumptions immediately.

And it hurts because, whatever had been eating Yamato inside, it's not something that had happened to him overnight. A storm had been brewing inside him for God knows how long. He had been fighting, battling on his own. Our friends, including Takeru, had stopped talking to him, Yamato's father wasn't living, nor was he close or on speaking terms with his mother. It seemed nobody knew what he was going through.

Nobody, asides from Jun...

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* * *

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It doesn't take me long to find her.

I had rung Daisuke for his sister's details, but after he had provided me with her phone number, he had mentioned that she wouldn't pick up my call because she was working. Which led me then to question where Jun worked. when he also had mentioned that she was working that evening, I had then asked for her work address. Anyway, it would only seem fitting that I show up at her workplace after she had visited mine, right? Yes, talk about irony.

I could have let it go. I could have continued ignoring the events of last night...but I couldn't. There are so many things I want answered. I may not be a part of Yamato's life anymore, but my friends are and I'm sick of being out of the loop.

It still hasn't hit me completely. I'm still grasping onto the fact that Yamato has graced my life yet again, but to additionally find out that he's on drugs? God damn it. I've never known, or been close to, anybody who has taken any illegal substances. Maybe it's because I'm somewhat sheltered (my parents had always been strict with me since I'm their only child), or maybe because I walked the opposite way whenever danger came knocking on my door? It's always a friend of a friend, a rumour, a celebrity – just everybody distant to me. Never would I have thought that I'd encounter somebody directly linked to me; somebody I cared about, and it still doesn't seem feasible in my mind.

The cocktail bar is an expensive one. Chandeliers illuminate, sparkling the dark room. There are even lit candles, lighting up the posh area. The chairs are composed of leather and some are soft-furnished in lush velvets. Jun's workplace proves to be unlike any ordinary bar or club, as the floorboards aren't sticky and there are no stains or tears in the furniture. There's no after smell of vomit, sex, or cheap cologne either. Who would have a thought a bar could _actually_ be sanitary?

I prop myself onto a stool, waiting for the bartender to serve me.

She immediately catches me there, eyes widening at my presence. She hadn't expected to see me here. Hell, I never would have expected to see me here either. This place is too trendy for me, and, let's just say, I'm never the type to go to a bar on my own.

Before Jun questions my motives, I beat her to it. "Yamato's in rehab."

She pales at my words, almost dropping the glass she's been drying with a hand towel, onto the floor. From how she's reacting, I know that nobody has told her and she looks furious. Jun raises an eyebrow and cautiously asks me, "What for?"

"Cut the bullshit, Jun. You know why he's there. You've known!" I cry out. She had been the one who had approached me at work. She had been worried about him. I don't need to get it out of her to know that Jun's known about Yamato's predicament from the beginning, and it pisses me off that nothing was done about it.

"Chill," she hisses. She conjures up a mojito and puts it in front of me. "I'm working."

I watch a mint leaf float over the ice cubes. "And I'm not paying for this."

"It's on the house," Jun reassures, but I know she's flustered to see me here. "Just don't make a scene, alright? I worked my ass to get this job. If my manager sees me upsetting the customers, he'd have my head."

I counter, "Good-"

"Could you wait five? My break's soon." She scuttles to the over side of the bar, serving a middle-aged man who is impatiently waving his card at her.

I let out a sigh. _Why_ am I here? It's still boggling, scraping at my mind. I can't get out of it. I'm already here, and there's no going back. If I really want to know what had drastically changed Yamato, Jun would be the right source to seek the information from.

Not knowing else what I can do, I fold one of my legs over the other, getting comfortable on the stool. I lean forward, sipping from the straw as the refreshing citrus flavour entices my taste buds. Classical music seeps from the speakers, enchanting the bar and making me feel out of place, even more because I'm on my own.

The thought doesn't last long when another person sits himself on my right.

"Miss Takenouchi?"

I blink a couple of times, slowly beginning to realise who the person is. Asides from the dim lighting, I had only seen the man from afar and never this close up. He's handsome. Striking hazel eyes, jet-black hair gelled perfectly to the side, and with a perfect posture, it's only fitting that he radiate this prim and properness when his job is a professional pianist. To picture him being in Yamato's rock band as a keyboardist is odd, especially when he's wearing his Grand Hyatt uniform. A gentle smile is visible on his lips as he stares at me, "It is you, isn't it?"

"I guess I am me," I reply back, quite absent-mindedly. "You're Yutaka, right?"

"It's nice to finally meet you in person, Sora," Yutaka's smile broadens. "And not behind a bathroom door."

The comment makes me a wave of heat flush my cheeks. Yutaka was working at the hotel, when he'd first encountered. The following morning, Yutaka had wanted to catch me, red-handed with Yamato, in the band's penthouse. I would have never thought to encounter any of Yamato's friends after we had stopped seeing each other.

Is it a common thing for Yutaka to visit Jun at the bar?

My question is answered when he speaks, "Are you here for Jun too?"

"Yes."

"Then you do know the update on Yamato?" Yutaka is querying me, but he is more or less stating it. He reads the expression on my face and immediately finds the answer. There's intelligence behind his gaze. It's the same look that Koushiro and Jyou possess. Before being revealed to a question, it's like they have the innate ability to solve an equation before it is even asked.

"For fuck's sake." Another man joins us. He tosses his woollen coat onto the bar and swears. "I'd like to know the update on the fucking idiot too."

While Yutaka's aura is calm and inviting, the hairs on my skin stick up when I feel the newcomer sit on my other side. This man's presence is like static, intense and overpowering. Though it's challenging to envision Yutaka in a band, it's no surprise that the newcomer was in one. I think he was the drummer? I glimpse the newcomer's eye-piercing and I simultaneously flinch at the memory. This is the same guy who had given me the mouthful when Yamato and his crew had stumbled across me and Sebastian.

He rambles on, "Yeah, that's right. Somebody better tell me what the hell is going on because I had to fucking take a train from Chiba during peak hour. Satou calls me, yells on the phone to me like it's my fault. Fuck. I'm not even working under him and he's still treating me like his little lapdog. What a bitch."

"Akira, you're not helping."

"Well, how the fuck am I meant to know what's eating up golden boy when I'm hardly in Tokyo?" Akira complains, angrily drumming his fingers against the bar. "I need a drink. Jun! Bartender! Get me something before I erode into fragments of pissed off."

Yutaka groans, sinking into his seat, "Shut up."

Because Akira is turning to grab Jun's attention, he finally notices that I'm here too. He's unimpressed when he recognises me, snarling, "Why are _you_ here, bitch?"

I can name a million places where I'd rather be right now. However, I stand my ground. Yamato's friend is one of those types who can easily rip into someone whenever they spot any sign of weaknesses. I know that I'm not completely in the right, but I'm not going to take shit from somebody who doesn't know me.

"I have my own reasons why I'm here. I need to speak to Jun," I reply as coolly as I can.

Akira snorts. "You're here because of Yamato."

"Perhaps I am."

"Aren't you too late for that? You're the one who fucked it up with him."

He really isn't letting it go. I don't blame him though. If I had been in Akira's shoes, and seen Taichi 'supposedly' cheat on Mimi, I would have torn Taichi apart. His loyalty towards Yamato is fierce, and although he is an ass, I can sense some form of over-protectiveness coming from him. I know that if I lash back out in spite, things will get worse.

Luckily for me, Yutaka interrupts, "We're all here because of Yamato so shut up, Akira."

"Are we now?"Akira bites out. "If you guys had kept an eye on him, things wouldn't have escalated like this! You! Jun! You're all too focused on your own life now that you've found your significant 'other' person, that you have forgotten about Yamato-"

"Weren't you the one who moved away?" Yutaka replies, unable to take it anymore, narrowing his eyes at the drummer. "Blaming people isn't right. Don't give us a guilt trip when it's none of our own faults. Yamato knew how much we were against what he did, even he was against it at some stage! Don't you remember what happened to Takashi?"

Just _who_ is Takashi? It's like they've forgotten I'm here as they bicker amongst themselves. I don't even know if I should open my mouth when Akira's in the vicinity. If I do, it seems like he'll chop my head of for speaking. Anyway, these guys aren't my friends. I don't know them. The only person I'm semi-comfortable with is Jun, and she's still at the other side of the bar.

"Yamato isn't as bad as Takashi."

"Of course he isn't," Yutaka responds. "But he was sane enough to prevent himself from following in his darn sempai's footsteps. Yamato knew what he was doing. He put himself in this situation!"

I'm getting a headache. The band seemed to know a different side to him that Taichi, Takeru, and the boys had never been exposed to. I guess it makes sense because the band is like another family to him. Yamato had spent a lot of time with them since the band had been accustomed to working alongside each other, and had even travelled all over Japan together during their countless tours. They had known him prior the band debuting. They had been with him through his hardships. They were his brothers. Taichi may have been Yamato's best friend, but the band had a different kind of closeness to Yamato. In Yamato's and my direct group of friends, Yamato appears like responsible type, but from how the band members spoke of him, I now know that there's also a reckless side to his personality that seemed to have only existed amongst his band mates.

"Can't you boys behave? What am I, your _babysitter_?" Jun scowls. I'm glad she's back. Thank God. She puts her hands on her hips, seething at them, "I told you to wait for me, but you're already at each other's throats!"

"You're not quick enough," Akira barks. "And I don't know why _she_ is here."

I roll my eyes at that.

However, Jun doesn't let it slide. She exits the bar and grabs Akira by the collar, then leers at both me and Yutaka from over Akira's shoulder. "That's it! You guys are coming with me."

She leads us to the other side of the room, past the arrows to the toilets and into a secluded room that's clearly for employees only. Pushing Akira onto a sofa, she turns off the television. She stares directly at me, "Is it true? Is he really in rehab?"

"Yamato's in rehab?" Akira gawks. Yutaka doesn't look all that surprised, it was like he had predicted it. Akira keeps grumbling, "How could you let this happen? I told him to stop drinking. He was getting out of hand-"

"It wasn't because of the alcohol." I shake my head, numbly. "He's been on drugs."

Akira curses, Yutaka buries his face into his hands and Jun starts to cry. It's like that initially for the first minute or so until Akira recovers, eyes blazing, using and targeting me as his latest prey.

"How would you know? You left him. I don't believe you."

"I don't care if you believe me or not. Your manager came to pick him up last night after he had a breakdown. If you want your facts, you go and talk to Satou instead. I'm just telling you how it is," I respond back.

"What type of drugs are we talking?" Yutaka's voice is weak. "The addictive kind? Not heroin-"

"I don't know." I admit. "I'm not familiar with any kind of drugs to tell you the truth."

"Some help you are," Akira snaps. As he's about to insult another derogatory remark at me, Jun crosses over back to Akira's side of the room, pounding him with her fists. " _J-Jun_!"

If Jun was crying before, she's bawling now as she lands each punch onto Akira's abdomen.

The punches aren't hard, but enough to make Akira grimace. Yutaka's about to get between them to stop Jun from hitting Akira. Akira shakes his head, motioning that he can take it. To my astonishment, I watch as Akira places an arm around Jun and starts to hold her until she's no longer motivated to to pound him. "He...he promised he wouldn't do it. He wouldn't go back."

I awkwardly look at my feet. They're all hurting in their own ways. I hadn't thought Jun would break down like this. I've always thought her to be this strong, humourous, I-give-no-shits type of person. It looks like we're all not coping with Yamato's current situation as well as I thought we would. Then again, who would? How can one cope nicely when they find out their friend is on drugs?

"The school screwed him when he had to do that speech at assembly," Yukata mutters. "My bet is that it started from there. He was doing good until then. He went weird after that, even before we saw you with your ex, Sora."

"What happened at the school?" Why were they even at a school? I frown, recalling that the group of friends had been together that night we had crossed paths at the izakaya.

There was something off about Yamato that night. I had always thought it was more anger towards me and Sebastian, but the way he spoke to me was...no, maybe I'm thinking way into this. He was mad at me because of Sebastian. It couldn't be anything else, right?

Jun says, "They had a memorial exhibition for Kaori."

" _Kaori_?" I breath the name out loud.

"First the divorce, then Kaori. He's dealt with enough.." Akira's voice fades in the background as memories come flooding back to me. The screws in my head start turning as I gradually begin to piece everything together. _'That you did this on Kaori's birthday.'_

Akira had mentioned her name before.

 _Kaori._

It's a name that's been taboo. A name that's been brought up a few times. _"Did you break up with your exes?"_ Yamato had hesitated. " _I have before, I didn't do it properly though..."_ Pause. _"It's my fault she died."_

" _Like me, I'm sure a part of you still loves and cares about your first girlfriend too.'_ He had replied, " _Always."_

Yamato hasn't said it, but I know it's his ex – and she was no longer alive. Words finally escape from my mouth, voice hoarse as I speak up to nobody in particular in the room, "How did she die?"

"She committed suicide," Yutaka confirms, face grim.  
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 **(a/n)** Slowly revealing everything. Very slowly. Haha. It was quite a challenging chapter to write. I exposed Kaori's death in Lifelines as some of you may have noted (this death reveal had to come out earlier in Yamato's story since it IS from his POV), so it was only natural that it finally shows up in this story.

As dark as this chapter was, it was pleasant bringing/writing in Yamato's other group of friends (especially Akira) into this chapter. This scene has been in my mind probably since chapter sixteen, so it's great to finally get this written up. In other words, a lot has been going on while Sora had been absent from Yamato's life (which will eventually be delved into more thoroughly in Lifelines).

Thank you so much for reading this (really) odd story. Will reply to the rest of the reviews soon. xox

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 **Ana Mara:** Thanks for reading! Yes, it will take A LONG TIME to get to this part of the story from Yamato's POV in Lifelines. Expect lots of angst. But things will be much more clearer with his actions when you read it from his POV. I predict it will be a hard write/read, when it eventually comes out xD

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	28. chapter twenty-eight:beneath the surface

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter twenty-eight

 **b** eneath **t** he **s** urface

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 _She committed suicide._ Yutaka's words echo in my mind. It's still not sinking my head because it's nothing I had, at all, anticipated.

"Suicide?" I softly repeat.

It chills me.

The word is foreign to my tongue. A word that I've loosely heard from people who aren't my friends who might have known friends of friends who had committed the dreadful act. However, to know somebody _directly_ who had been closely associated with somebody who had ended their life, I still cannot comprehend it. Suicide is something I don't and possibly will never understand.

How someone could ever go to the extent to end their own life is beyond me. I've hit the floor multiple times, and each time it had been a struggle to get up, yet I had never thought of the idea of wanting to kill myself in those moments. To think that some people would do it, to come to morbid conclusion, to lose hope, to think nothing was worth living for...how sad.

For once Akira chooses not to speak, looking awkwardly away. Jun doesn't keep on explaining, so Yutaka steps back in to further explain what happened to Kaori.

"Nobody saw it coming. It was a week after the band had debuted when she threw herself over the balcony…"

I grimace, feeling sick. The image of an adolescent girl flinging herself off the railing to her demise is not pleasant. It doesn't seem real. It didn't seem right. Hell, it _wasn't_ right, yet she had went ahead with it. What had triggered her _this_ badly to make her want to kill herself?

"What type of person was she?" I can't find myself asking, curious to know more about Yamato's first, true love.

Akira starts off, "Kaori was an artist. She liked to paint."

"Quiet. Unapproachable. Maybe shy? Distant, but kind," Jun reminisces. "I was never close to her. She hardly spoke to anybody asides from Yamato and the art teacher. Whenever Yamato and her were together, nobody else mattered. It was always just them."

"They understood each other," Yutaka recalls. "Yamato was a different person around her. He cared about her, deeply. Nobody really fell in love that hard at their age, but they really cared about each other. They were inseparable."

Inseparable, yet Taichi had never once mentioned Kaori's name, while Yamato had really kept her name hidden. He must have really loved her. Then again, Kaori wasn't Taichi's story to tell, and she wasn't a person that Yamato was willing to share to anybody. She was a memory that caused him a great deal of pain and grief. A memory that he seemed keen not to share.

Which I now understood why…

It wasn't a simple romance Yamato had. And, perhaps, that was why he had never been in serious relationships ever since. I don't think I could after being scarred, after having somebody that close to me pass away. I don't think I could trust anybody again.

"You'd think that Yamato would have went on drugs when we had become famous, but he had experimented with Kaori before everything went down. They never took the addictive stuff," Yutaka mutters. He frowns. "Drugs are easy to access during high school, but Yamato...I know he didn't try the drugs because of only peer pressure. He's always been sound at making his own decisions, even though some of them can be questionable…"

"Why do you think he did it then?" I ask.

"When his parents divorced, he changed," Jun says. "I'm sure it has to do with that. I wasn't close with him at the time, but I've known him since I was six, before Taichi, Kaori and even before the band had formed. He was like any other ordinary kid. Then he went silent. He stopped talking as much…"

There was much more to Yamato than I had ever thought. Had it all stemmed back to his youth? He's beyond complexity, and he chooses what he wants to show to others. Even his close band friends didn't exactly know what ran through his mind. He didn't like talking about himself much, and despite his friends knowing him for so long, he was selective with what he wanted to share.

"I-we...we thought he was better," Yutaka sighs. "After Kaori died, he had intense therapy, was on meds, all while we were touring. He was getting better. From what I know, he had stopped taking the meds after his father died, and refused to go see his psychiatrist, so we had assumed it was because he was doing alright. But now that I think about it, well _shit._.."

Yutaka closes his eyes, shoulders slumped as he sits back on his chair. He stops talking because he looks like he's going to crumble from addressing his thoughts out aloud.

The three all care about Yamato in different ways. Akira is more verbal and uses profanities to get his message across, but it's obvious that he cares about Yamato. Jun is worried. And, witnessing Yutaka right now, it's clear that he is too.

Yamato is the youngest out of them, yet he strode ahead like his problems were nothing, not wanting to be a nuisance to anybody. And, maybe, it was because he acted mature, they had forgotten that he was prone to getting overwhelmed by the expectations that had been put on his shoulders. To the public, the main vocalist was assumed as the leader...and his friends had put him up on the pedestal, forgetting that he too was vulnerable.

The same could be said about Yamato and our mutual group of friends. One look at him, and you'd think he was the most stable out of us lot. The most sensible, mature. He'd keep an eye out on everyone, ranging from Miyako's insecurities about losing weight (I had heard about this prior to meeting him), to ensuring that Koushiro would get some rest and consume something else other than oolong tea. He cared deeply for everybody, that it seemed he'd forgotten to care about himself.

And that, in itself, had contributed to his downfall.

Everybody assumed he had been fine because he had been used to disguising the troubles that was going on in his life. Even I had thought Yamato had it easy. Boy, had I been wrong…

"Which rehab were they talking about?" Yutaka asks me. "I'm furious that neither Seiji or Satou have contacted me."

I give them details, summarising to Yamato's friends what had happened that night. They all look as helpless as I do, but Jun is surprisingly optimistic, saying that they would visit him.

"Are you sure? Takashi hasn't been getting any better," Akira mutters bitterly. "Are you sure the clinic has even helped with his progress these past six months? You seemed so certain about it when we made him present himself there thanks to your partner."

Jun rolls her eyes at him. "Takashi is a different case. Rose tells me he is improving. On the other hand, Yamato has a better chance. I don't think he was as addicted in contrast to Takashi. He was never the type to do heroin because he knew how bad it affected Takashi."

"And how do you know that? Yamato's good at lying. He might be on harder stuff and we didn't know it." Akira snorts.

"I'm _sure_ it's not heroin." Jun bites back.

" _Guys_ ," Yutaka groans.

I feel like I'm not meant to involved in this conversation. I didn't know Yamato's band member, Takashi, also had drug issues too. Just how much more _don't_ I know about Yamato?

Taking everything in is tiring, and finding about Yamato's old girlfriend is quite depleting for me to take in. Although Yamato's never addressed it properly, by what's described about her...I know that he's still in love with her. The irony is that I can't even compete with her because she literally is a memory now, and Yamato's well...Yamato isn't himself at the moment. Why am I even thinking about competing?

I notice the long hand on my watch strike twelve. It's time to do a Cinderella and to go home. I'm drained from today. Besides, these three seem to want to talk more and I...well, I know I don't belong here. They aren't my friends; they're Yamato's. And, without Yamato here, it doesn't feel right.

Murmuring my goodbyes, I hurry out. The splintering wind wakes me. My body is cold, not from just the weather, but from everything I've just found out. It's unsettling. It's surreal. And being revealed to everything should make me reconsider things...like whether it is worth being around Yamato, whether it's time to finally step aside and walk away.

However, something inside me is tugging, telling me to not. I've already been absent from Yamato's side long enough, and turning my back on him when he's in this kind of state is not good either. He's not a friend; he's not a partner. He's somebody who needs my help.

I'm not saying that I'm the right person to get him back on his feet. What I mean to say is that at least I can be there to support him. If there's anything I can help with, I can at least try.

Additionally, Yamato's life also affects mine. If he's not going to get through this, the impact on our mutual friends would be great. Takeru's not coping, Taichi's furious….if we all team up together then perhaps we'll come up with a realistic approach. He needs all the help he can get if he wants to tackle his demons and by his demons, I mean to say it's himself. He needs to gain possession and control over himself to become the person I admired again.

Taxi after taxi passes by me on the street. A person clears his throat and I glimpse besides me, raising an eyebrow at the newcomer.

"Hey." I try and sound friendly.

Akira's approach doesn't seem as feisty as it had been earlier. His jaw is still jutted outwards, but he's less intimidating. Ever since he had seen me, I knew he hated me. This is mainly because the first time we had crossed paths was when I had been spotted with Sebastian. It makes sense why he doesn't trust me. I wouldn't.

"Thanks for letting us know about him," Akira says. "And I know we started on the wrong foot, but-"

"It's alright," I brush him off, awkwardly.

Akira continues, "I mean, you're looking out for him if you went to the extent to seek us out. You might like my idiot friend is some way…"

"I don't know about that," I say doubtfully. "We stopped talking. I don't think he really thought of me in a positive light."

"You're wrong," Akira states, kicking an invisible stone on the ground. "I know my friend, or whatever is left of him. He was curious about you. It was the first time he actually showed real interest in somebody since Kaori, you know?"

My pulse stirs. His words are getting to me. The cold breeze suddenly feels warm against my cheeks. I don't know if Akira is saying the truth. I really don't know what to think anymore.

Akira tops it off like icing on a cake, when he utters, "He really liked you Sora."

Gee thanks. I'd rather Jun suggest a threesome than for Akira to admit his thoughts to me in that strained voice of his. Although it's uncomfortable, I know he's being genuine about it. Maybe it's because I felt it through Yamato's actions, but I never wanted to believe it. Maybe because I had liked him a whole lot more than I had liked to admit.

Akira clasps a hand on my shoulder. He gives me a weak, thin smile. "Thanks."

I still don't know what to reply as he turns back on his heel, walking back into the bar.

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The tea doesn't taste good. It has no flavour to it. I'm beginning to question whether there had even been any tea leaves soaked in the steaming water. I might as well be drinking from the tap. Then again, everything seems to have lost its flavour the past week.

I'm not saying that I had expected the tea to be good. Taichi's horrible at making tea. He always has been because he's a chronic coffee consumer. And, for Taichi to make me tea...that already explains the weird situation I'm in.

I know I'm meddling, but I disapprove of Taichi's approach to what's been going with Yamato. I, admittedly, haven't visited Yamato at the clinic, but I've been keeping tabs on him via Jun. And, not once, had I heard Taichi talk about going to his supposed 'best friend'.

It's not my place to say and judge, and it's not as if I've known Yamato long enough like his other friends. But what irritates me is that Taichi is giving up on him - and he's not usually the type to give up on somebody. Whenever people get into these type of situations, they _need_ people there for them. Which is why I don't get why Taichi is turning his head away from this. Taichi is the kind of person who _likes_ to be a menace and intrude in other people's problems...yet why is he ignoring Yamato?

I want to know. That's why I'm here.

"When are you going to see him?"

Taichi snorts at my direct attack. He doesn't even need to ask who I'm talking about. He knows why I'm here, and it's obviously not to visit Mimi. If I had wanted to speak to Mimi, I wouldn't have purposely picked a Wednesday night when she has an evening baking class.

"Is it necessary to?"

"Yamato needs you," I insist.

I don't like beating around the bush whenever it concerns Taichi because I know that when handling him, you _have_ to be direct or he won't listen. You need to keep him focused and interested in the heart of the matter considering once you stray off topic, he'll make up excuses and find the easy way out.

Seeing that he's not replying, I continue to talk, "I know everything now, Taichi. I know about Kaori. I know about the drugs. I know...I know that you, that he-he's waiting for you to go to the clinic"

"Really?" Taichi scoffs. "Why should I?"

"Taichi…"

"It's enough that he started drinking. It's enough that he forced you to sleep with him...and now he's on _drugs_? He _promised_ he'd keep clean." Taichi bites back a laugh. "Like he has _countless_ of times Sora!"

His tone of voice shows me the answer. There's more depth to this than what I know of. Taichi had known Yamato's issues, and he had most likely frowned down on his best friend's actions, constantly reprimanding him for it.

Taichi seems to be the only one aware of the friction between Yamato and I because Yamato had told him. There was nobody else that would have told him because I had kept my lips shut in regards to the matter. It had really shaken me when he had said it in front of everybody, when Yamato was in the hotel bathroom floor. It hadn't been the time to bring it up, but he had.

Although I'm not defending Yamato, I say, "It's not like he took my virginity, Taichi."

There are worse matters right now. Although it still is a sour memory in my mind, the main focus is Yamato and getting him better - if he can get better. And, for Yamato to pick himself back up, Taichi has to be there for him.

"He told me that he practically raped you," Taichi reasons out, slamming his hand on the table. "How the hell am I meant to wave that off?"

"Taichi-"

"What the _fuck_ was he thinking?"

"He wasn't."

"I don't care! Shit like this always worries me. Christ, why do you think I don't want a kid yet? I get fucking scared about having a daughter. Dealing with Hikari was enough, and imagining if Hikari got raped or hurt, I'd...why aren't you angry, Sora?" He stops mid-rant, eyes blazing at mine. "You're also like a sister to me, you're one of my best friends and what Yamato did to you repulses me. And, even more, is that you _let_ Yamato walk all over you!"

"He didn't mean to."

"But he did it and you're not denying it either!" Taichi snaps.

I remark back impatiently, "Sometimes we do things we don't mean to when we're not thinking straight. Like, right now, you're yelling at me without even listening to what I have to say."

"Because I'm angry about this."

"Well, at least project that anger to Yamato and don't keep it bottled up," I say.

Yamato's been going through hell, but I know Mimi has too. She's been messaging me all week about how 'cold' Taichi has been acting, even asking me for the updates on Yamato too. Taichi's pretending this isn't effecting him, sweeping the thought of Yamato under a rug, but it's eating at him and if he wants to get his answers, he's better off facing Yamato face to face.

"Fine, _Takenouchi,_ " Taichi lets out an exasperated sigh. "What is is that you want to say? Spit it out then. Lecture me like you _always_ fucking do."

I roll my eyes at him. "I know that I don't know everything about Yamato, Tai, but it's not all about the surface with him. You know that as much as I do. He's not just a musician, he's not just an uncle, a brother, a friend-"

"Then what?" Taichi cuts me off.

"There are reasons why people take drugs. I may not be a qualified doctor like Jyou, or a genius like Koushiro, but there's an underlying reason why he went on them."

"What would you know?"

I take a sip from the ceramic cup, gazing down at the ripples in my chamomile tea. "My mother. She used to be quite depressed, you know? I don't think I ever told you that…"

"Huh?"

"We never got along. When I was in high school we always fought. I thought she hated me, that she didn't want to raise me. Our parents almost even divorced over it until dad forced her to see a therapist."

It's heavy talking about this, and it's not something I voluntarily bring up either. I had mentioned it to Mimi before, but never in detail. I had told Mimi that my mother was sad because her business wasn't doing well, not sad because, well...she was feeling sad?

I reveal, "I lived most of my adolescent life thinking my mother hated me...little did I know that the reason why she acted like that to me, to everybody, was because she was severely depressed. I felt real guilty after I had found out about it. I only knew when I was looking for her jewellery box and found all these bottles of antidepressants inside the same drawer."

"I'm sorry," Taichi says because those are the words you say when you don't know what to reply, or how to react.

I'm not offended by him. I now know that my words are finally sinking into Taichi's skull, and I'm grateful that he's not dishing out accusations or furiously spewing on his disapproval about Yamato's actions.

"There's no need to be sorry. What I'm trying to say, Tai, is that sometimes things happen that are beyond our control. We don't know what's going through everybody's minds, and what they've been going through." I give a small smile. "Yamato had told me once that he had a lot on his plate. I really should have thought about it in a literal sense…"

"Are you insinuating that Yamato's been depressed?" Taichi lips slope downwards.

"He could be. He might have been. It could be something else."

In general, people all go through their highs and lows. Unfortunately, for some of us, some people experience the lows in a more severe manner. Some people can't cope as well. Some people don't even know why they're feeling sad, and empty on the inside. Some people disguise themselves as happy people. And, in this case, Yamato did a good job at hiding it...exactly like how my mother had.

"He can get better if he wants to get better, but right now you need to be by his side, Taichi," I say. "Think about it, alright?"

"Hm," Taichi replies, disheartened. He stretches his arms backwards, chair rocking back on the back legs.

I warn, " _Taichi._ "

He takes the ceramic cup from my hands, taking a sip from it then immediately spitting it out. "That tastes fucking disgusting."

Raising an eyebrow at him, I ask, "So you're going to the clinic?"

"Fine. Only if you go with me."

"Deal," I conclude, not the least surprised by stipulation.

"You're lousy at this, Takenouchi." Taichi gets up from his seat, swiping a beer from the fridge. He scrunches his face when he looks at me drinking the tasteless tea. "I'm never doing business with you _ever_ again."

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 **(a/n)** This chapter was going to be longer, but I'm stopping here because I think that this sits well on its own (and before possibly digging into more drama? haha). I really wanted to have a Taichi x Sora scene. Mimi was going to be in it, yet I founds myself ironically writing her out of it -_-"

There have been a handful of old reviewers popping in to say hi. Just wanted to say thanks for even dropping by to say hello. It makes me smile that some of us still exist on this site, even if it's just for a mere visit. :)

In the mean time, if you do want something else to read, check out Lifelines (which is the parallel story to this told from Yamato's POV). I know most of you know of its existence, but I thought it would be a nice surprise to those who hadn't known about it.

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 **Ana Maria:** From this chapter, you can see that everybody is shocked by Yamato being on drugs...but it is also revealed that he _has_ been on them before. Why Kaori committed suicide will be revealed at some point. Possibly soon. There aren't many signs of Yamato slowly slipping in Bittersweet Catastrophe because he's (kind of) a different person around Sora because she brings out the good in him AND because there are gaps when Sora and Yamato aren't interacting. The signs will be more obvious in Lifelines considering it is from his POV. Thanks for reading again :)

 **Guest:** I think that we all go down memory lane after watching Digimon Tri. I knew I started writing more Digimon fanfiction when Tri came about. I was triggered to, and I kind of missed writing on this site. I'm happy that you still went along to check out this story, and (somehow) recognised me again. Haha. Thanks for reading, fan from 2003 :) xox

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 _(will reply to the rest of the reviews this weekend xox)_


	29. chapter twenty-nine: back-burner

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 **[BITTERSWEET CATASTROPHE]**

chapter twenty-nine

 **b** ack **-b** urner

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You'd think that after all that's gone down between Yamato and I, I'd stop wanting to see him. I always think of this thought, trying to silently rationalise with myself...despite knowing that what I'm doing _doesn't_ making sense, yet I find myself here at the rehab. Still visiting. Still checking up on him. Still _seeing_ him.

We're not a couple. I don't expect us to be. Could I be a friend? Maybe. Perhaps a support person? That, yes (since I'm already doing it). I know that, even if I wanted to, I can't find it within myself to turn my back on this; on him. I'd either visit him prior or after my work shift, or see him after my classes. I'm here on a regular basis, with the minimum being once a week. I've noticed that whenever I go less frequently, Yamato's mood becomes more edgy. It's like he's become attached to my visits.

He's like a parasite. He quietly fights my sense of reasoning, latching onto me and not letting go. And, I know, that I can't let go of him. Not yet. Not now. Not when there's a chance, a vague hint, that we can get him back onto his feet. I've never been the type to give up on somebody, and seeing that I have the most time compared to everybody else, I've made it my purpose to go on behalf of everybody too.

And yes, that's bullshit. I want to actually to be here for him. I really do.

"No class today, Sora?" Maya asks me. She's one of the guards at the rehab. A familiar face I'm used to seeing. Whenever Yamato has been preoccupied with therapeutic sessions, visits by other friends, his family or booked in with his doctor, Maya would keep me company.

I smile. "No. The lecturer was sick, so class was cancelled. However, I did spend most of my day working on the portfolio. The deadline is next week."

"That's why you look exhausted," Maya comments, most likely judging my dark eye bags that have been more apparent over the past fortnight.

"Possibly," I admit. "It doesn't help that I'm a bit of a perfectionist whenever it comes to certain details."

"Which indicates that you'll do well. Attention to detail is a necessity with the career you're pursuing."

"I wouldn't really call it a career. More of a hobby. I'll see where it goes…"

While I had been working at the cafe section of Hikari's childcare centre, I had been approached by one of the mothers. She had found out, from Hikari, that I had helped design the interior of the childcare and had been quite impressed. The woman hailed from an architectural background, and suggested I looked into interior. To be honest, I never thought of interior decorating as an option. It had never dawned to me how passionate I was about something without realising it. I had spruced up my apartment, I had fixed up the jewellery shop before the ownership change. Even in Spain, I had assisted refurbishing the wedding dress boutique to provide more space for my boss.

So far, the short course was turning out to be a blessing in disguise. It kept me positive. Happy. Focused. Stressed, sure...but it had also been calming for me, researching, designing and being around like-minded people who were just as passionate about design as I - unknowingly - have been.

I had mentioned it to Yamato, and Yamato had been one of the few people who encouraged me to keep going. There have been times when I had been tempted to drop the course, yet Yamato had talked me out of it. My parents scolded me, telling me I was going through a phase and should get a 'real' job. Whilst some of my friends were a bit taken aback by the fact that I had decided to become a student again - which isn't surprising since I'm thirty. (Yamato keeps telling me off saying that age shouldn't stop me from pursuing this career, but I can't help but think I'm being foolish at the same time).

As I'm about to ask Maya what her plans are for the weekend, the door is thrust open.

Takeru's stalking out. His face is pink, eyes stormy as he walks passed us. Anybody can tell how infuriated he is. What bothers me is that this isn't a Takeru trait. Takeru barely shows sign of anger. I'm not sure whether I should call out for him or not.

Somebody beats me to it. "TAKERU!"

His mother runs after him. Her eyes are wide, almost scared as she chases him. Heels clunking on the tiled floor, she manages to reach Takeru's side. Tugging at his sleeve, she pleads, "Please, Takeru. Listen to me."

Takeru shakes her off, voice hard. "No."

"But-"

"How long have you kept this from me?" Takeru whispers. If triggered any more, I know how easily his voice could escalate to a yell, by how hard he is restraining himself. "All this time...I, I blamed dad for everything. And you, _you_ …"

"Takeru, I-"

He cuts her off, "I can't speak to you right now."

I'm trying not to pay attention to their quarrel, but it's hard when it's happening right in front of me and I have nowhere else to turn. It's only now that Takeru's gaze lands on mine. He gives a slight nod in acknowledgement before leaving his mother standing in the corridor, one hand leaning on the wall for support. She swivels around to glare behind us.

She's staring at Yamato.

Yamato's looking back at her from the doorway, frown etched onto his lips. His eyes are tired as he runs his fingers through his dirty, ash blond hair. He doesn't say anything, waiting for his mother to say something first.

She does.

"How could you tell him that?" Her voice breaks.

Yamato shrugs. Although we're all adults here, Yamato looks like a teenager with how he's acting towards his mother. There's rebellion blazing in his eyes, and it's then that I note how much fury he holds towards his mother. I had thought it was a petty thing, that they merely didn't get along...but now I see otherwise. There's something else beneath the surface that has got Yamato acting this way.

"He was bound to find out eventually."

"I didn't want you to tell him."

Yamato laughs bitterly. "He's an adult. He can take it. You can't hide everything from him anymore, mother."

She repeats, thin eyebrows furrowed, "I _didn't_ want you to tell your brother _._ Why do you always have to make things so difficult for us?"

"I didn't ask you to be here," Yamato responds.

Even for me, that reply is harsh and too blunt for my liking. Yamato's mother looks like she's about to cry. She leaves, disappearing out the exit from where Takeru's left.

With Takeru being all enraged, I have never seen Yamato's confident, stern mother being shaken up like this. No matter how pissed off I am at my own mother, I don't think I could ever address my mother like that. Then again, Yamato's relationship with his mother has been more complicated than the relationship I have with my own mother.

"That was mean," I say.

Yamato's jaw is tight as he gazes at me. "Really? Was I? I thought I was being lenient."

Although he's tense, his shoulders droop down, knowing that his mother has left the vicinity. He lets out a sigh, pacing his breathing. He tends to do that more often, a technique he's learned to do to control his bubbling anger, the side effects from coming clean. "Sorry. Family session. My doc and Takeru thought it would be beneficial…"

"Was it?"

"I really don't know." He mutters. "It just annoys me that she's trying to be a part of my life, yet she keeps lying through her teeth."

"At least she's trying."

"Well, I think it's a bit too late for that."

I don't argue back because I know we'll end up going in circles. He's too rigid whenever it relates to his mother, and I don't want his anger to project onto me. I want him to relax, to try and not get too worked up. There's no point of me being here when Yamato gets in one of his aggravating moods.

Maya closes the door behind me as I take a seat by the table. Yamato's still tense. His back is leaning against the wall, refusing to take a seat across me. He's peeved. I get it. However, it still stings even though his anger is directed at his mother, and not towards me.

I give it some time, but when he chooses not to speak for another minute, I uncross my legs. About to push myself up from the chair, he finally says, "Where are you going?"

"Thought you didn't want me here," I reply. "Considering that you're choosing not to talk to me."

"Is that how you see it?" He says. "I thought you're here because you pity me."

Yes. He's in one of his irritable moods - one of the moods I _really_ antagonise. "Fine. I'll leave."

I turn my back to him, heading towards the door until his hand goes onto my shoulder. It's the first time he's touched me ever since he had broken down in the hotel bathroom three months ago. A night that I hated to relive. Ever since, he had been hesitant to reach out to me. We talk. That's what we do. But never has he touched me again. It's almost like he's scared too.

"Sora." His voice is gentle, regret tinged in his tone. "I'm sorry."

Spinning on my heels, I look back at him. He's so close. His eyes are clearer today, not as muddled and murky with confusion. I lean back, asking, "Sorry about what? Talking back to me just now?"

He shakes his head, attention on his sneakers instead of my face. "Everything Sora. I...I mean it."

"You're bringing this up now?" I breathe out.

He replies, quietly, "We never talked about it."

We've been ignoring this topic, too scared, too cowardly to revisit how things had gotten awkward between us. My thoughts of leaving become disrupted as I take his hand off my shoulder, allowing my hand to slide into his. He looks up, shocked, as I lead him back to the table, pushing his shoulders down to take a seat.

I sit back onto the chair I had been on, arms folded as I survey him who is gazing at me in speculation. We're both trying to read each other, and since he's brought it up...I'm not going to let him get away from this topic either. It's been the pink elephant in the room whenever we've been together. We'd talk about everything, but not what had happened. We had pretended like nothing happened, or how he was improving, how he could get better…

But not about us - and that time has now come.

"It's not entirely your fault. We were both furious at each other, Yamato." I massage my scalp. "I mean, I didn't expect you to tell Taichi that you forced yourself onto me...when you didn't really."

"How would I know what I did? I was high, Sora. I shot up before you came to my apartment. I wasn't in the right state of mind. I don't remember...I woke up, I...I just assumed I hurt you, alright?" He buries his fingers through his hair. "And then I saw you in my sheets. I saw the scratches and bruises on you. Christ. I was scared I went too far. I knew I went too far. I couldn't look at you. I was a coward."

"Why didn't you stay?" I choke out. "You could have told me."

"If I had stayed, would you have even wanted to be with me? After what I had done? I thought it was best if I leave before you reject me...then I started drinking. I was a mess. I really thought I had taken advantage of you, that I needed to tell Taichi. I couldn't keep in the guilt."

"You could have spoken to me first."

"And do what?" Yamato hisses. "Hurt you more?"

"I think what got to me the most was when you didn't talk to me," I say, sharply.

"Oh," he murmurs, not knowing how to take in what I had spoken. "I really wasn't in the right state of mind, Sora. Whatever I did...I...I just fucked up, alright? I don't expect you to forgive me. Not after all the shit I did."

"But, tell me," I start. I had wanted to get this out of my chest for a while, to get an answer. "Tell me...was it because of me? You didn't shoot up because of me screwing you over by kissing Sebastian or anything-"

"Not completely," Yamato responds. "It was because of many things. Me hurting you just made it worse, and seeing you with your ex didn't work well with me either."

"That was my fault."

"No. I still think about my ex too, you know? You can never forget about people who played a big role in your life. I'd be lying if I said that it's easy to not think about an old love interest."

"What I did was still wrong."

"The same could be said for me then." Yamato sinks into his chair, looking up at the ceiling. "Because then I would not let her get the best of me."

 _Kaori..._

"You can't let go of her," I conclude, peeking at him through my eyelashes. "You loved her, didn't you?"

"She's gone," he heaves out.

"I know."

Yamato meets my gaze, deciphering my reply. Frown prominent on his lips, he surveys me and snorts. "Did Jun tell you? Or Tai?"

"I kind of figured it out before anybody confirmed it." I mutter, "You were high, remember? I only connected the pieces, filled in the gaps that you weren't telling me. I hate you for it, you know?"

"For carrying a flame for a dead girl?" Yamato says, darkly. Something dangerous flashes in his eyes, and I know if I say the wrong thing, he'll get ticked off.

"No," I speak up, "I hate you for hiding things. All this time, you've always held something back. And, in the end, it resulted with all these secrets eating you up. I feel like I could have prevented it too, if I had listened more to you. If I had let you open up to me...if somebody was there for you to hear you out, perhaps then you wouldn't have had a meltdown."

"I don't get why you have to blame yourself for it," Yamato mumbles. "Think about it, Sora, people _surround_ me. Anybody would have been happy to listen to me, but I had closed them off. I pretended that nothing was wrong. I brought this upon myself."

Because of his stubborn nature, I don't know what else to say to convince him otherwise. I express my thoughts aloud, "Maybe if I had met you earlier, would it have been different between us?"

Yamato rolls his eyes. "You'd hate me. I'm a bit of a dickhead."

I laugh. "I don't know about that. My perception skills were bad when I was younger. I could never stay focused. I was quite airy-fairy, wanting to drift from one place to the another."

"Which is attractive," he compliments. "You're not like everybody else. People tend to not stray from their comfort zone, yet you went out of Japan, travelled, tried new things. Even now, you're making it a mission to study again."

"But it scares me. This might be my final course to study. It's been something that's been on the back-burner for a while, something that I didn't realise I loved," I say. "This stability, being this grounded...it's kind of freaking me out. I'm not used to being, to staying in one place at a time. I'm surprised I haven't even gone overseas yet...I, being stuck in one place too long, it feels like I've lost myself."

"Maybe you've always belonged in Japan, with your family and friends, and never wanted to admit it."

Yamato makes sense. He tends to do this with me. Whenever I'm with him, it's like I'm in a confession booth, spitting out my deep, dark secrets that I had kept hidden within myself, easily exposing them to him without realising it. He has a way with words, his own special technique that makes me bring out myself. And, I've noticed, that only he has this type of effect on me. It's infuriating.

I blink when I see his hand hold mine over the table. The warmth of his skin against my fingers somehow projects onto my cheeks, as our knees bump and his thumb strokes my hand. The fear must be apparent in my face when he glimpses the trace of surprise in my eyes.

"Are you still scared of us?"

 _Us_?

I haven't ever really considered the thought of Yamato and I being together again. I mean, it hadn't been like we had been together long anyway. I...he brings out something in me I don't like. He diminishes my self-control, my sense of independence. Yet, he knows me so well for somebody I had only really met almost a year ago.

Taking my hand away from his, I whisper, "Is there still an _us_?"

His lips curve downwards, and I know I've fucked this up even more. Of course he might have gotten the impression that I had wanted us to be together. I had been visiting him frequently, but that didn't mean that I'm ready to jump into a relationship with him again. Then again, I've been being stupid because, now that I think about it, I've been leading him on as well.

"Sorry," I say, numbly.

Yamato's piercing blue eyes makes my pulse increase. I look away when he softly says, "It's fine."

We both know it isn't.

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 **(a/n)** A short chapter, but this scene needed to be on its own I guess. There's still so much story. I couldn't write Sora x Yamato getting together and living happily ever after (as of yet. haha). I think it's more realistic this way. Yamato's still healing and Sora's trying to figure out what she really wants to do. Sorry for the long wait. Life has been busy. Hope you all have been well ;)

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 **Soratotime:** Thanks for dropping by and leaving some feedback! It's nice knowing that people follow my story (even if it's anonymously). I'm surprised you've read since LimitZ ... that's such an old memory. Haha. I don't even remember the plot of it anymore, only just how corny it is. Haha. It is quite a dark story. I hadn't intended for it to, but it happened xD (which makes it harder to write).

 **Guest:** Of course I'd acknowledge your review. It's always great to old readers check out this site. :) I'm shocked I found myself writing here again, tbh. Haha.

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 _(will reply to the rest of the reviews tomorrow xox)_


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